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

54

With the sun higher in the sky, Koba gathered the apes. Numbering in the hundreds, they clustered on the highest girders of the unfinished building.

“While humans hide,” Koba growled, “apes not safe! This… our home now. We must protect it. Find them… Cage them.”

Blue Eyes watched the apes around him. Some were uneasy, looking away from Koba. Others hooted and danced from foot to foot, freed by Koba’s hate, enabled to become animals again. Blue Eyes identified with the uneasy ones. He looked to Ash.

Everything happened too fast, he thought. Three nights ago, or was it four, he and Ash were chasing a speared fish. The wound on Ash’s shoulder was still fresh, the hair just starting to grow back where the bullet had seared it away. Beyond Ash, Blue Eyes saw the long arm of the crane reaching out from the girders. A metal ball and hook hung from the end of it on a cable, swinging a little in the wind.

“They forget… what they did to us,” Koba said slowly. “But Koba does not forget. We will make them remember. Go… Hunt them.”

The body of apes began to move.

Ash shrugged. They got up and moved, but Blue Eyes was already wondering if he had been right to defy his father. But it made no difference now. Caesar was dead. Koba led the apes, and where he went, they would follow.

Blue Eyes and Ash went with a group sent to search the building they called City Hall. Koba said that this was where human leaders did their work. He told them he thought more humans would hide there.

A pair of gorillas battered open the heavy doors on the front of the building, and the apes flooded in, peering up at the high, domed space with staircases and balconies running around its edge. Blue Eyes admired what the humans had built, and the builders themselves. He thought he would like to build something more than dwellings of sticks and mud.

Most of the apes did not give the space a thought. They flooded across the floor, scaled the walls and banisters, hooting and screeching to flush out any humans who might be cowering within. Blue Eyes knew it would be dangerous to stand out, so he and Ash went with them, running along the balconies, banging in doors and searching rooms full of nothing but desks and shelves filled with books.

“Run! Run!” It was a human voice, echoing from a nearby hall, up another floor on the broad main staircase. Apes surged up the stairs, and Blue Eyes went with them.

There was a small group of humans at the top of the staircase, and they ran into a large hall, the morning light shining down through high windows. They ran the length of the hall and stopped short, as they found that the back stairs were suddenly full of apes. Blue Eyes heard those apes screeching in glee over the humans’ panicked cries.

There was no need for Blue Eyes and Ash so they, with a few other apes, turned back to look through the level they were on. They ducked along a few narrow halls and offices, then came back to the stairs and started down. Blue Eyes looked over the railing. The floor was far away, polished and gleaming stone.

Noises from just above drew their attention. A group of humans ran out from the floor they had just searched. How had they missed them? The humans started to go up the stairs, but they heard the wild screeches of the apes up there and turned to come back down.

But Blue Eyes, Ash, and the rest of their group were there. They looked at the humans, waiting to see what they would do. One of them, an old man, his hair flying around his head like milkweed, suddenly lunged forward, swinging a metal pole at Ash.

“Gonna kill you!” the old human screamed. He kept swinging the pole in front of him, trying to keep the apes back. Behind him, an old human female huddled on the stairs. Blue Eyes could see that she was exhausted, and could run no more.

The old human swung the pole back for another swipe at Ash. Blue Eyes realized that he was no threat, and Ash was just waiting for him to get tired. But the old man staggered as the metal pole was jerked from his hands. He looked up and behind him, taking a step back when he saw Koba come out onto the staircase landing just above him.

The metal pole dangling in one hand, Koba looked down at the old human female. He looked back at the male and thrust out his arm, shoving him down the stairs to land in a groaning heap at Ash’s feet. The old human looked up at Ash, terrified and in pain from the fall. Old humans, Blue Eyes understood, were like old apes. They were easily hurt.

Koba grunted for their attention. When they looked up, Koba tossed the metal pole down the stairs to Ash. Ash looked up at him and Koba nodded. Blue Eyes understood. Ash was to kill the old human as proof of his loyalty.

The old human understood this, too.

“Please,” he said. “Please don’t.”

Ash looked from ape to ape. All of them looked away to Koba as soon as he met their eyes…. All of them except Blue Eyes. Blue Eyes looked at his friend. He did not know what to say or do.

Koba came part of the way down the stairs, cutting the distance between him and Ash in half.

“Kill this one,” he growled.

Ash looked down at the old human, then at the metal pole in his head. He grunted something softly to himself. Blue Eyes couldn’t hear what. Then he shook his head.

Koba’s eyes narrowed. He came the rest of the way down to the landing, his gaze never leaving Ash. When Koba stepped off the last stair and was standing over the terrified human, Ash lifted his head. Blue Eyes was surprised to see a burning anger on Ash’s face. He set the metal pole down and signed.

This is not what Caesar would want.

Blue Eyes too looked up at Koba. If Ash could face Koba, so could he. And Ash was right. Caesar would not have done this, and Caesar would never kill an old, injured human—one who was no threat.

Koba nodded, rumbling deep in his throat. Blue Eyes had a flash of hope that Koba would see that he was going too far. All of this had gone too far. Blue Eyes had been wrong to defy Caesar. By doing that, he had given Koba more strength. Now, how many apes were dead? How many humans?

Blue Eyes hoped Koba was thinking the same thing.

Koba reached out and seized Ash by the scruff of his neck. Ash screeched in sudden fear as Koba dragged him up the stairs and around onto the balcony just above. Blue Eyes ran after them, and the other apes followed. If there was going to be punishment, they wanted to see it. Blue Eyes wanted to make sure Koba did not hurt Ash. Most likely he would make an example of Ash to cow the other apes. Blue Eyes understood that.

But Blue Eyes would not stand by and let Ash be hurt. He too would defy Koba, standing with his friend.

Yet he never got the chance. When he reached the top of the stairs and turned out onto the balcony, Koba lifted Ash into the air and threw him out over the railing.

As much as he tried, Blue Eyes could not look away.

Shrieking in terror, Ash flailed in the empty space and fell. The other apes were silent. Koba, too, watched Ash fall, and smiled when Ash’s body hit the floor far below, landing with a wet crunch. Stunned, unable to know how to feel, Blue Eyes looked down at his friend. Ash had been hurt by humans, but had stood up for humans… because of Caesar. His death left an emptiness that could not be measured.

Blue Eyes had betrayed his father.

This was his fault.

He looked up at Koba, aching to fight him. But Koba was too strong.

“Caesar gone,” Koba said into the silence. He spoke to all the apes, but he looked at Blue Eyes. “Apes follow Koba now.”

Blue Eyes did not challenge Koba. He looked around him and saw that the other apes would not help him.

He was alone.