Ashton Memorial (10 page)

Lee screamed in surprise and pulled the trigger.
There was a sharp “crack” as the rifle went off and a whistling
noise as the dart flew from it.

The bald man grabbed his throat and stumbled
back. Blood shot from between his fingers and over the dart
embedded in his throat.

“Dad!” yelled one of the
teenage boys, rushing forward.

“Shit, Lee!” yelled Tom.
“What the fuck did you do?”

Lee recocked the rifle and
pointed it at the rushing boy. “Back!” he yelled. His voice shook
violently. “Everybody back! That was an accident! I swear it was an
accident.”

The bald man clutched at his neck. Blood
raced down his arm and splattered onto the ground. His eyes were
wide. He choked and gurgled.

The woman behind the man screamed. The
giraffe behind Ella snorted and stamped its feet.

The man's face turned red. He bellowed in
rage, blood spattering from his mouth, and rushed at Lee and the
other Keepers. Lee screamed and fired again.

With a high-pitched
whistle and
thwack
the dart lodged in the man's forehead. The man stopped, legs
wobbling. He toppled down and was still.

“Dad!” yelled both the boys
in unison. The woman screamed and cried.

Caleb looked around in panic.

“We'll kill you!” yelled
one of the boys.

“Run!” yelled Caleb.
“Everyone run!”

The Keepers and Ella ran back the way they
had come. Ella turned back to see the boys and their mother
crowding around the bald man's body.

One of the boys saw Ella.
“You're all dead, bitch!” he screamed.

Ella turned and ran.

Four

Ashton was chaos.

Homes were torn open,
their contents spilled onto lawns and driveways. Businesses were
looted and broken. Bodies littered streets and sidewalks. And
everywhere,
everywhere
, corpses wandered and ate.

Angie took side streets everywhere she
could. Any time she took a major road, any time she got anywhere
close to downtown, she saw mobs of corpses and screaming victims.
The asphalt was streaked with blood. The side streets were quieter,
more manageable.

Rain pattered on the windshield as she drove
up a residential street. The houses were old and packed way too
close together. Angie wondered how anyone lived like that. She
clicked the wipers on, then off. They squeaked their way across the
windshield, smearing the rain more than removing it. The
intermittent switch had given out years ago.

“Here,” she said as an
apartment complex came up on their left. More rain collected on the
windshield. She clicked the wipers on, then off. She turned into
the parking lot behind the complex. She had to steer around a car
that stuck out from a spot at an odd angle.

Angie stopped in the middle of the parking
lot, looking around. She didn't see much point in trying to find a
spot. The idea of parking spots seemed to have been abandoned
within the last twenty-four hours. Cars were parked crookedly or
across multiple spots. A large trash bin had been turned over.
Garbage was strewn out across the pavement. A few stray cats
sniffed at it.

She put the shifter into park and shut off
the engine. Maylee and Dalton snored in the back seat. Angie
sighed, looking at the building. As best as she could remember,
Bobby's apartment was on the second floor of the two-floor
complex.

“This where your brother
lives?” said Park, looking at the complex then back at
her.

“Yeah,” said
Angie.

“You don't seem too
thrilled to be here.”

Angie took in a deep breath
then let it out. “When my ex, Jake, left me with the kids, my
wonderful brother in there took his side in the divorce. They'd
been buddies when we were married. He chose his buddy over
me.”

“Fuck me,” said Park,
shaking his head. “You always stick up for family, whether they're
right or not.”

“Well, I was right, and he stuck up for Jake. So
let's go see how good old brother Bobby's doing. If he's okay and
his truck's still working, you can have the car.”

Park looked at her and nodded. She leaned
into the back seat and put a hand on Maylee's knee. Maylee jerked
awake, blinking and rubbing her eyes. Dalton followed.

“Hey guys,” Angie said,
softly. “We're here.”

Maylee and Dalton looked
around the lot from the car. Maylee picked up her bat from where it
rested against her knee. “Looks bad, Mom.”

“It does,” Angie said. “We have to go see if Bobby's
okay. And it's too dangerous to leave you two in the car. So we're
all going. Just stay really, really close. Got it?”

Maylee and Dalton nodded.

“I said 'got
it?'“

“Got it,” said Maylee and
Dalton, almost in unison.

“Good,” said Angie. She
looked back at Park. “Then let's go.”

They all opened their doors and climbed
outside. Cold rain pelted down on their heads as they looked
around.

Angie nodded toward a
bright red pickup parked facing the building. “That's his truck.
When we talked last Christmas, he kept going on and on about it.”
The truck glistened in the rain, like it had been recently waxed. A
long gouge ran up one side.

“Looks like it had a rough
trip home,” said Park. He shut his door and readied the rifle in
front of him.

“Yeah,” said Angie,
shutting hers. “Two bullets left?”

“Two.”

“Okay then. Let's
go.”

Maylee and Dalton shut their doors and they
all walked slowly across the parking lot. Rain fell around them. It
dawned on Angie that it was unusually quiet for a city block. She
heard a siren, far away. But nothing else. Whether this was a good
or bad sign, she couldn't tell.

They came up to the truck from the side. As
they got closer, it became apparent that the truck hadn't been
parked facing the wall so much as slammed against it. The front was
crumpled and a headlight hung loose.

“Shit,” said Angie. They
stepped toward the wall and inspected the front of the truck more
closely. “Think it'll run?”

“Not sure,” said Park. “I'd
have to take a closer look and...”

And they all jerked back as a scratching
noise came from the truck bed. Park pointed the gun through the
windshield, toward the back of the truck. Maylee gripped her bat
and stood close to Dalton. Angie grabbed Dalton's shoulder and
braced herself, waiting for something to come around from the
back.

Nothing did. Just more soft scratching.
Slowly they relaxed and looked at each other.

“Whad'ya think?” said
Angie, softly.

Park shrugged, scratching
his beard. “Dunno. Got two shots left, I guess. Let's check it
out.”

Slowly, Park leading the way with the rifle,
they walked around the front of the truck and up the side. With
each step they took, the scratching noise grew louder. Rain fell
around them. They reached the truck bed and looked over the side,
Park pointing the rifle down into the bed just in case.

A rotten and nude female corpse lay there,
face down. She was missing both legs and she dragged her rotten
fingers across the truck bed. She moaned softly. Her naked skin was
gray and pockmarked, with blue veins clearly visible all over her
body.

“Gross,” said
Dalton.

Park kept the gun pointed
at the corpse's head. It groaned and clawed at the bed, not
noticing them. He lowered the gun and looked to Angie. “Guess if
the truck runs you can get her out later.”

“Yeah,” said Angie, looking
down at the clawing naked woman. “Better save the
bullet.”

They turned and left the corpse, and the
truck, behind. Slowly they made their way to the door that led into
the complex.

Angie pushed open the door and looked
around. She stepped inside, Maylee behind her, then Dalton. Then
Park with the gun.

The hallway was dim and quiet. Doors lined
both sides of the hallway, each with a number indicating an
apartment. One door, halfway down the hall, was open. Light
flickered from inside but there was no other movement.

Angie looked to her left
and saw a flight of stairs leading up. “Okay,” she said, startled
at how loud her voice sounded. “His place's on the next floor. Come
on.”

They walked up the stairs to the first
landing. With each step, Angie became increasingly aware of the
silence in the building. The air was thick with it. The creaks of
their footsteps on the stairs seemed unnaturally loud.

They reached the landing and turned. A
corpse stood waiting on the first step of the next flight.

It was a fat man with no shirt and a large
split running across his abdomen. The split was deep enough that
his intestines poked out. He moaned and took a step forward.

Angie and the others rushed back to the
first flight of stairs and the fat man stumbled onto the landing,
almost falling into the railing. Park stepped on the landing and
pointed the rifle at the man's forehead.

“No!” whispered Angie,
stepping up to grab the barrel and push it downward. “There might
be more of them! We have to be quiet!”

Park scowled at her for a second, then
shrugged. He pulled the gun away from her grip and flipped it
around to hold it by the barrel. The corpse groaned softly and came
at him. Park jabbed the butt of the gun at the corpse's forehead.
It connected with a soft smacking sound and the corpse stumbled
backward into the railing.

Park stepped forward and smacked the corpse
again. It fell backward, its back bending over the railing. Its
head and shoulders hung over and its legs shuffled on the landing
floor. Its arms flailed. One of its fat hands closed on Angie's
smock. It groaned and pulled her toward him.

“Mom!” said Maylee, rushing
back up onto the landing and brandishing the bat.

“Shh!” whispered Angie. “No
noise! Just stay back.”

“Fuck that,” whispered
Maylee, rushing farther toward them.

“What did you say young
lady?” whispered Angie, struggling with the corpse's
hand.

Maylee stayed quiet and knelt down. She set
the bat down and grabbed the corpse's legs.

“What are you doing!”
whispered Angie.

“Mom, shh!” said Maylee.
She looked up at Park. “Push him!”

Park looked at Maylee, then at Angie. He
shrugged. He leaned over the railing with the rifle, putting the
butt on the fat man's forehead. He pushed. The corpse groaned.

“Harder!” whispered
Maylee.

Park grunted and pushed down hard. Maylee
tightened her grip on the corpse's legs and pushed them toward the
railing. There was a sickening cracking noise as the corpse's back
broke. Part of the man's intestines spilled out through the slit in
his abdomen. Blood ran down the man's front. Maylee let go and
jumped back before the blood reached her.

The fat hand went limp and let go of Angie.
She pulled away. Maylee picked up her bat and stood. She and Park
stepped over to Angie. Dalton came back onto the landing to join
them.

Maylee looked very proud of
herself. Angie glared at her. “Don't you ever do anything like that
again, young lady!” she whispered. Her heart was pounding. “And
second, that was good thinking. But still, don't do it!”

Maylee scowled at her and looked at Park.
Park lifted his hands, rifle in one, as if to say not to involve
him.

The corpse moaned, his head hanging down
over the railing. His body was limp and still. They all looked over
at it, then back to each other.

“Okay,” whispered Angie.
“Everyone stay quiet and let's go.”

They reached the top of the stairs quietly.
Angie leaned out the door to the stairwell, looking down the
second-floor hallway. It seemed as still and quiet as the first.
The quiet felt like it was closing in around her. She shook the
feeling off and turned to the others.

“Okay, looks clear,” she
whispered. “Bobby's place is down at the end. Come on and stay
quiet.”

They all stepped off the stairs and made
their way down the hall. They stepped slowly and softly, Angie in
front, Park behind her with the gun, then Dalton, then Maylee with
the bat. Angie felt proud of Maylee for her quick thinking. Hell,
she felt proud of her for getting herself and Dalton to the
hospital the night before. But she couldn't tell her that, could
she? She couldn't encourage that kind of behavior. It was
dangerous.

Angie slowed and stopped when she saw an
open door up ahead, about halfway to Bobby's apartment. She looked
back at the others, nodding silently at the door. Park nodded
back.

“Two left,” he whispered,
readying the rifle.

Angie nodded and turned back. She motioned
for them to move forward, slowly.

They crept up the hall until they were
outside the open door.

A corpse, an old woman with white hair
stained red with blood, was on the floor crouching over an old man.
The old man's head faced the hallway. The old woman's head was
down, buried in the man's stomach. She pulled up slowly, pulling
out what looked like a liver with her teeth. She grabbed hold of
the liver and bit free a hunk of it, slowly and feebly. She moaned
ecstatically as she chewed. She hadn't noticed them.

Angie turned slowly to Park. He had the gun
trained on the woman, but was relaxing as though realizing they
weren't seen. Angie motioned for the rest to keep moving. Park and
the kids moved past her. Angie took one last look at the old woman
gnawing at the liver. Her wrinkled face was caked with dried blood,
flecks of it falling to the floor as she worked her jaw up and
down.