University of Virginia

Maggie’s head throbbed. High-pitched fingernails on a chalkboard brought her back. Her eyes fluttered, blurry images, swishes of green. The air was foul, something rancid, sweaty fur, animal feces.

She recognized the screeches from down the hall. Only, they weren’t down the hall. They were closer. She opened her eyes, kept them open, willed them to focus. Then jerked to consciousness.

Beady eyes stared out at her. Green fur flicked and swirled. Razor-sharp claws scratched out between the metal bars of cages. She was in the middle of a small room lined on both sides with cages of screeching monkeys.

She tried to bolt upright and fell back. Her wrist was anchored to a corner table, strapped tight with a plastic tie. She pulled and yanked at it, but it dug into her skin. Her movement only made the monkeys scream louder and bang around inside their cages, slamming their small hands against the bars or reaching out.

Maggie tried to calm herself. To steady herself. Keep quiet. Don’t move.

With her free hand she patted down her jacket pocket and wasn’t surprised to find her cell phone gone. So was her Smith & Wesson. She looked around the room to see if there was anything she could use to cut the plastic tie. There was nothing but monkey cages. Pellets of food and monkey feces scattered across the floor around and even underneath her. She rose to her feet, keeping her movements slow and easy. She couldn’t stand upright with her wrist bound to the metal table.

She searched the room again for anything she could use. This time she noticed the two end cages and a chill slid over her. Both the doors were flapping open. That’s when she saw a flick of a long green tail slip out from behind the table by the door.

Instinctively she grabbed at her shoulder holster, again, before remembering it was empty.

Then she saw a second ball of green fur out of the corner of her eyes. This one was sitting high up on top of the cages and he was staring down her.

Okay, so there were at least two monkeys loose. Sharp claws, sharp teeth. Somewhere from her data bank she remembered that they spit, too.

Don’t look them in the eyes. Stay quiet and calm. Don’t move.

She’d figure something out. But she needed to stay calm. Breathe. She scanned the room again, moving only her eyes.

That’s when the lights went out.

It took everything she had inside her to not scream. When she felt the first brush of fur against her face she automatically jerked away. She gasped and gulped for air before making herself stationary again.

Quiet. Be still. Don’t show your fear.

She was dripping wet with sweat and fear. How could they not sense that? But something told her they wouldn’t attack unless threatened. That’s when she felt the second swipe across her cheek. Only this time it was claws, not fur.