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

42

It was late in the afternoon, and they were up against a long list of stuff that had to be done, but Malcolm was starting to believe that they could do it—thanks to the apes. They dove in and worked hard, clearing debris from around the generators and the control panels, lugging heavy equipment and parts around, doing whatever Malcolm asked them to do. He was starting to wish he could have an ape crew on every job. They didn’t gripe and they had twice the strength, it seemed, of the humans he’d worked with before.

Maybe, even after all the strife and Carver’s idiocy, everything was going to work out. Even the golden light slanting in through the powerhouse’s tall, narrow windows bathed everything in an optimistic glow.

Alexander, displaying more interest in technical, hands-on concerns than Malcolm had seen before, was helping Foster replace some of the burned-out and corroded parts in the huge generator blocks that would take the static electricity from the turbines and make it into current that could be transmitted across the miles to San Francisco. Foster’s socket wrench slipped and he looked at it.

“Hey, pal,” he said to Alexander. “Looks like I stripped out this socket. Find me another one, the same size?”

“Sure,” Alexander said, heading for the tool closet at the other end of the control room.

The door at the top of the stairs slammed open and One-Eye barged in. Just like that, Malcolm’s good mood evaporated. One-Eye slung himself down the three-story stairs in seconds and accosted an ape dragging a broken pipe across the floor. He signed something and the ape pointed across the room, past Malcolm. One-Eye dropped to all fours and raced across the room. Alexander, gaping at the violence of his entry, didn’t get out of the way fast enough and One-Eye knocked him to the floor.

“Hey!” Alexander said. “What the—?”

One-Eye spun around and stalked back toward Alexander. Malcolm recognized that body language. What did you say? You talkin’ to me? He vaulted over the railing separating the control panels from the main floor and got there before One-Eye did, interposing himself between the enraged ape and his son. He could see it wasn’t going to do any good. Something had changed, and One-Eye wasn’t going to hold himself back. If he’d had his harpoon, Malcolm would already be spitted on it.

Malcolm looked around for some kind of weapon. All he found to hand was the socket wrench Alexander had dropped. He picked it up, knowing it wouldn’t be much help, but he was damned if he was going to sit there and let this ape come after his son.

Just as One-Eye got within arm’s reach, the orange mountain of the orangutan stepped between him and Malcolm. He stood, making no sign and not saying anything, while Malcolm pulled Alexander a little farther away.

One-Eye wasn’t about to take on the orangutan, Malcolm could see that. But he sure looked like he wanted to.

“Get Caesar,” he growled. “Want Caesar!” He spun around and roared at the ceiling. “CAESAAARRR!”

Silence fell as his roar echoed away. The apes near the access tunnel stood aside, making room for their leader to walk up to One-Eye. Caesar was in no hurry, but he was also ready to fight. Everything about his pace and his body language suggested a spring wound just one turn too tight. Malcolm pulled Alexander farther away, all the way back to the control panels. He could feel the violence in the air.

One-Eye glared and stood his ground as Caesar approached.

“You make us serve humans? he said. “They should serve apes!”

Caesar squared off with him, stopping inches away and standing up straight, shoulders thrown back and chest out. This was serious.

One-Eye wasn’t done.

“You shame us!” he growled. Then he pointed at Caesar’s son, sullenly holding a long spool of cable at the far end of the room. “Shame your son!”

On the word son, One-Eye stabbed a finger into Caesar’s chest.

That was one more provocation than Caesar was prepared to tolerate. He sprang and tackled One-Eye to the ground, rolling with him and grappling across the steel grille floor. At first the other apes hooted and shrieked, enjoying the show, but very soon it became clear that this wasn’t an ordinary fight. Caesar and One-Eye were fighting as only old friends could fight—brutally, primally, with no quarter asked or given.

Malcolm had seen a video once, of chimpanzees hunting monkey. When they caught the monkeys, they twisted their limbs off and began to eat without bothering to kill them first. Malcolm wondered if this fight was going to end with one of them maimed. Or dead. They tore at each other with nails and teeth, gouging eyes, twisting joints. Then Caesar had a momentary advantage, and he started to pound One-Eye chimp-style, with both hands high in the air and falling one-two, one-two, as his whole body rose up and drove down, putting more weight behind each blow.

One-Eye struck back at first, but then his defenses were beaten down. Caesar pinned him down, squatting over One-Eye’s chest and beating the scarred ape with a savagery Malcolm hadn’t thought was in him.

What saved One-Eye’s life was fear. Everyone, human and ape, saw the moment when he stopped fighting and started cowering, hoping only to defend himself long enough for his opponent’s anger to burn itself out.

That fear registered with Caesar. For a moment it seemed to sharpen his fury. He reared up again, ready to deliver a killing blow… and stayed there, breathing hard, while One-Eye looked up at him, battered, making no attempt to escape or fight back.

Malcolm wanted to say something, but this wasn’t his fight. The apes had to sort out their own business, if they and humans were going to deal with each other reliably. Caesar panted over One-Eye, visibly fighting the urge to kill him. The other apes in the powerhouse watched, but not one of them made a move to interfere.

Caesar’s panting slowed, ever so slightly, and he mastered himself enough to speak.

“Ape… will not… kill… ape.”

Releasing One-Eye, he stood and remained looming over his vanquished opponent. Malcolm thought he knew what came next—or at least what Caesar would want to come next. He didn’t dare move, barely dared breathe. The other humans in the room didn’t move either.

If One-Eye came after Caesar again, he was going to die. And from the look on his face, he knew it. Maybe, Malcolm thought, he even embraced it.