Ashton Memorial (39 page)

They reached the porch. The stairs were on
the other side. Angie lifted Dalton up and over the railing, onto
the stoop. The corpses groaned and drew closer. Maylee tossed her
bat onto the stoop, then climbed up and over. The dead body in the
tree rocked back and forth in the pounding rain. The corpses
groaned and drew nearer.

The frontmost corpse, a
middle-aged woman with a ruffled blue hat bouncing on her torn
bloodied head, came at Angie. She hissed and bit. Angie spun, taken
by surprise and trying to get her rifle up in time. A “crack”
sounded to Angie's right and the woman fell back, dart embedded in
her left eye.

“Thanks,” said Angie,
glancing over at Park.

“I could do this all day,”
said Park. “Now get the fuck up there.”

Angie nodded and slung the rifle over her
shoulder. She took hold of the wet metal railing and pulled herself
up. The railing was cold and slippery and she almost fell
mid-climb. The dead body swung from the tree. The branch creaked in
the rain. The corpses drew closer on all three sides of the porch.
Park fired again. Another corpse dropped.

Angie made it over the
railing. She turned and held her hands out and down to Park. “Come
on!”

Park slung the rifle over
his shoulder. “Don't insult me,” he said. “I think I can manage a
couple of feet.”

Angie stepped back and Park grabbed hold.
He'd made it halfway when he suddenly stopped.

“Shit!” he groaned. “Stupid
fucking bad knee son of a bitch burn in hell!”

Angie smirked. “Doin'
okay?”

Park held out a hand.
“Think you could take a break from your fucking stand-up comedy and
help?”

“Of course sir,” said
Angie, grabbing hold and pulling him up. “How rude of me. I should
have offered to begin with.”

“You're a fucking riot,”
said Park, dropping onto the stoop.

Angie smirked and turned to rush inside the
office. Park followed. The kids were already inside, standing stock
still and staring at something off to Angie's right. Angie followed
their gaze.

A deer stood inside the room. A large buck
with ten-point antlers. It snorted angrily at them, running its
hooves along the carpeted floor of the office.

“Shit,” said Park. “And my
ass without a hunting license.”

“Everyone stand very
still,” said Angie. The door to the outside was still open. The
corpses were gathering around the stoop. A few attempted to crawl
through the railing. The buck dragged its hooves on the carpet and
snorted. Angie slowly unslung the rifle from her
shoulder.

She had it halfway up when the buck huffed,
snorted and charged. Maylee and Dalton screamed, diving out of the
way. The buck crashed into the far wall of the office, cracking the
wood paneling and sending a bulletin board flying.

Angie stumbled, turning with the rifle. She
leveled it at the buck.

“Wait!” said Park, holding
up a hand. He was looking back and forth between the staggering
buck and the corpses trying to navigate the stoop. One had nearly
crawled through the railing. Another was slowly staggering up the
stairs. “I have an idea!”

The buck backed away from the wall, snorting
and shaking its head. A trickle of blood ran from its nose.

“Hey fuckface!” yelled
Park, waving his arms and backing toward the open door. The corpses
on the stoop saw him and groaned. They started to reach for
him.

“Look out!” yelled
Angie.

“I know what I'm doing!”
yelled Park as the buck focused on him and charged. The corpses
behind Park nearly had him. As the buck drew close, Park dove out
of the way. The buck crashed through the open door and into the
approaching corpses. It jumped over the railing, its hooves
slamming into corpses' skulls. The corpses fell back moaning.
Several fell down and were still.

Park turned back to the
door and shut it. “Shit!” he said, leaning against the door. “I
can't believe half the shit we do ever works.”

Outside, the corpses groaned and gargled in
the rain. The buck could be heard also, snorting and huffing in the
rain.

Angie ran to the window and peered out. The
buck was thrashing its antlers back and forth, trying to free
itself from the group of corpses. Corpses staggered and fell around
it, torn and ripped by the buck. The buck freed itself and turned
back to the office. It snorted and stamped its feet.

“Shit,” said Angie. “The
crazy thing is going to ram us.”

“Open the door,” said Park,
cocking his rifle.

“Don't be crazy!” said
Angie.

“That thing can easily
clear the railing and break this door down! You wanna find new
shelter?” He leveled the rifle at the door.

“Damn crazy ass,” said
Angie. She ran over to the door and opened it. The buck saw her and
charged. It stomped furiously through the rain. The few corpses who
were left upright moan and staggered around.

“Get out of the way!”
yelled Park.

Angie ducked to one side
just as the buck leapt. It was halfway over the railing when Park
fired. The dart thudded into the buck's chest, throwing the buck
off course. The startled buck's back legs caught on the railing and
it slammed downward, onto the metal stoop. A loud “crack” rang out
and the buck let out a sharp yelp.

“Shit,” said Maylee from
the other side of the room.

Angie stepped over to Park to look outside.
The buck flopped around on the stoop, its neck broken and the
tranquilizers taking effect. It whined and snorted, blood spraying
from its nose.

Park brought the rifle back up and fired,
into the buck's skull. The buck jerked and was still.

“Okay,” said Park, panting.
“Now shut the door.”

Sixteen

Angie walked as quickly as
she dared across the wet pavement just outside the Communications
Office. She held a tranquilizer rifle in front of her, angled down
but ready to use at any moment. Park was a few feet behind her,
pushing a wheelbarrow they'd found propped up against one side of
the office.
Staff Only
was imprinted in faded white letters on the side of the
wheelbarrow. It was empty.

Angie looked side to side. The rain had let
up considerably since the night before, and she could see much
farther. No corpses or crazed animals were in sight. Rain pattered
on the wheelbarrow as Park pushed it along. The wheel squeaked just
loud enough to worry Angie. She worried something might hear. She
gripped her rifle and kept walking, heading for a large shed hidden
among some bushes across from the office.

Angie fell back a few steps to let Park come
up alongside her. She was going to speak when Park nodded at
something to their left. Angie looked and saw a corpse, a small
woman with most of the skin ripped from her face, stumble from the
nearby trees. Rain pooled in the black and red mass of rips and
scars where her face had been. The woman moaned and moved toward
them.

Angie leveled her rifle at the woman and
fired. The dart thudded into the woman's head off-center, nearly
taking off the woman's temple. The point evidently found brain,
though, as the woman jerked, spit rain water from her dead mouth,
and fell.

“Not bad,” said
Park.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Angie.
“It kind of sucked and you know it.”

They both kept walking. Light rain fell and
the wheel on the wheelbarrow squeaked. Angie wondered if the noise
had attracted the corpse. She tried not to wonder about it too
much.

They were about halfway to the shed. She
glanced over at Park.

“Some people were here when
Dalton and I got here. It looked like they'd managed to stay safe
in there for days.”

“On your right,” said Park,
nodding in that direction.

Angie looked and saw a tall man, wearing a
white T-shirt stained with blood, staggering from behind a bush. A
huge gaping wound in his torso showed white bone and gray organs.
The organs jerked and shook as he walked. Angie sighed, cocked her
rifle, and fired. The dart nearly missed, thudding into the man's
head just to the side of his eye. The point of the dart jutted out
from the man's temple. The man kept coming, oblivious to the
injury.

“Dammit to hell,” said
Angie, cocking and firing again. This time the dart thudded into
the man's forehead, much closer to center. The man staggered
backward, groaning and blinking. Then he toppled to the pavement,
still.

“Damn right,” she said,
mostly to herself. She glanced at Park to see him smirking. She
considered telling him to fuck himself. She stayed
quiet.

They walked for a few more seconds. The rain
fell and the wheel squeaked. Angie was now certain the noise was
bringing corpses. She braced herself, ready for the next moan. Or
the growl of a crazed animal.

Nothing came.

They drew to a halt just
in front of the shed.
Staff Only,
said chipped white paint emblazoned across the
front.

“Uh-oh,” said Park. “Staff
only. Guess we'll have to go back.”

Angie smirked but stayed quiet. She fished
around in her pocket and located the keys they'd found in a desk in
the office. She stepped up and found a padlock on the door of the
shed. She tried the keys and was relieved when one slid in easily.
She turned it and the lock opened. She pulled open the shed door
and stepped back.

The shed was full of tools. Shovels,
hammers, wrenches. There were even a few pickaxes. All neatly
organized and stacked.

Park sighed. “Think that'll
do?”

“It'll have to,” said
Angie. “We've just got the three rifles, so we'll need all the
weapons we can get.”

They loaded the wheelbarrow with tools as
quietly as they could. Rain fell around them. Angie was careful to
make little noise as she loaded the heavier tools.

When the wheelbarrow was full, Angie shut
the shed and looked around. Rain pattered on the trees around them
and on the tools in the wheelbarrow. No other sound could be heard.
No moans. No growls.

“Okay,” said Angie. “Let's
go.”

After one more quick glance around, they
started back toward the office. The weight in the wheelbarrow made
the squeaking of the wheel louder than before.

“Anyway,” said Angie. “This
place is pretty out of the way. Someone...”

A loud moan came from behind her. She spun
in time to see an old man with ruptured eyes and rotten yellow
teeth reaching for her. He was closer than the others had been.
There was no time to ready the rifle.

Angie jumped back as the man lunged for her.
He missed, moaning and stumbling forward. Angie shoved the man
back, struggling with the rifle. The man corrected himself and came
back at her.

“Here!” said Park, grabbing
a wrench from the wheelbarrow and tossing it at her. Angie caught
the wrench and slung the rifle over her shoulder.

The corpse came at her, moaning and working
his rotten teeth. Angie slammed the wrench across the man's temple.
The man's head whipped to one side and he staggered to the left.
Thick black ooze seeped from a crack Angie's blow had made.

The corpse was righting himself when Park
came up behind him with a hammer. Park slammed down on the corpse's
head. The skull splintered and caved, sending black pulp upward
across Park's sleeve. The top of the hammer buried itself into the
man's head. The man jerked, then slumped.

He didn't fall, though. He hung there, his
head still stuck to Park's hammer.

“Oh dammit to fuck,” said
Park, shaking the hammer. The corpse hung there, jerking as Park
shook his arm, but otherwise still. The hammer didn't come
free.

Angie chuckled and stepped over.

“The fuck you laughin' at?”
said Park, still shaking the hammer.

“Oh I think you know,” said
Angie. “Hold still.” She brought up the wrench and slammed downward
onto the man's skull, to the side of Park's hammer. The blow
knocked the corpse free, and it fell to the ground.

“Thanks,” said Park,
grimacing at the black all over his arm and hammer. He whipped the
hammer clean as best he could. He dropped it back in the
wheelbarrow and Angie tossed the wrench in after it.

They both looked around in silence. No other
threats were seen. Park took hold of the wheelbarrow and Angie
unslung the rifle from her shoulder. They continued, Park pushing
the wheelbarrow and Angie holding her rifle ready.

“So anyway,” said Angie
after a few moments of silent walking. “Like I was saying. If
someone kept quiet, if they didn't call attention to themselves, I
bet they could stay holed up in that office for quite a while and
be pretty safe.”

Park said nothing. They walked along in
silence. The wheel squeaked and rain fell. They reached the office
without further incident. Park left the wheelbarrow by the stoop.
Angie walked up the steps, doing her best to ignore the hanging
corpse and the horrible wet rotting smell it gave off. She stepped
over the dead deer still covering most of the stoop. She put her
hand on the handle and watched Park coming up the stairs after
her.

“They'll be fine, you
know,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“I've been listening to all
the crap you're saying. How safe the place is, how long someone
could hide here. You're right and they'll be fine.”