Ashton Memorial (12 page)

“Get off my mom!” yelled
Dalton. Angie heard smacking sounds and Bobby's body shook with
each smack. Angie guessed it was Dalton hitting Bobby. The railing
behind her back creaked and groaned.

“Dalton,” she screamed,
struggling with Bobby. “Stop hitting!”

Dalton screamed and gave Bobby a hard shove.
Bobby's body slammed against her. The railing beneath her upper
back gave a loud creak, then gave way.

Angie fell back onto the deck. Pain shot
down her spine as it connected with the wood. The back of her neck
hit the edge of the broken railing. The pain made her grit her
teeth.

Bobby fell with her, biting and clawing. He
landed on top of her. Angie kicked her legs and pushed back at him.
He was close.

“Mom!” screamed
Dalton.

“That's two,” said Park,
leveling the gun at Bobby's head. He moved the barrel back and
forth, trying to get a clear shot.

“Not so close to my head,”
yelled Angie, struggling with Bobby.

“Figured you might say
that,” said Park. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and stepped
forward. He brought up one of his hunting boots and kicked Bobby's
rear. Bobby slid forward, past Angie's head and off the deck. Angie
heard him slam against the truck below.

Angie stood, loose bits of wood falling from
the deck beneath her. The wood cracked against the truck. She and
Park looked over the edge. The truck's front was worse than before.
Bobby had landed in the center of the hood, buckling it. Bobby
rocked back and forth in the indentation he had made. Soon he would
stand up, Angie knew, but the truck was too far away from the deck
for him to be an immediate threat.

“Some plan you had,” said
Park.

“There were complications,”
said Angie.

Maylee screamed from behind them. They
turned to see a female corpse stumbling across the living room. She
was nearly to the deck.

“Where’d the hell she come
from?” said Angie.

“Bedroom closet,” said
Maylee, backing away and holding her bat in front of her. She
bobbed the bat up and down, waiting for the corpse to get closer.
The deck creaked under her steps.

“Don't do anything stupid,
Maylee!” yelled Angie as the corpse stumbled onto the deck. It
moaned at them, dragging its feet across the wood. It now blocked
the door.

Maylee grunted and swung her bat hard,
nearly hitting Angie in the head with her backswing. Angie leaned
back as the tip of the bat whipped past. She started to fall
backward off the deck. Park grabbed her shoulder and stopped her
fall.

“Stop it, Maylee!” yelled
Angie, using Park's grip to hoist herself back up straight.
“There's not enough room!”

The bat smacked against the corpse’s temple.
The corpse's head whipped to one side from Maylee's blow. Several
rotten teeth flew from its mouth and clattered across the deck.

Its head came to a stop pointed at Dalton.
It groaned and took a shaky step toward him. Thick blood seeped
from its right ear, running down its cheek and neck.

“Sorry lady,” said Park,
stepping around Maylee and shoving the corpse away from Dalton.
“Not today.” The corpse stumbled until her stomach rammed into the
right-hand railing. The railing shook and cracked. More pieces of
wood fell to the parking lot. The corpse doubled over. A thick glob
of blood fell from her mouth.

The corpse groaned and straightened, turning
toward them all. Dalton tried to back away, but was blocked by
Angie. Angie tried to back up to give Dalton room, but her feet
were at the edge of the deck .

Park aimed the rifle at the corpse's
head.

“Not so close to the kids!”
yelled Angie. She grabbed Dalton and pulled him sideways across her
front. She almost fell off the deck doing it, but she managed to
jerk him away from the corpse and Park.

Dalton stumbled sideways
into Maylee. Maylee had been focused on the corpse and hadn't seen
him coming. She screamed in surprise and fell backward. Her back
collided with the left-hand railing. It cracked. “Oww!” she yelled,
nearly dropping the bat.

Park adjusted his aim and cocked the rifle.
The deck beneath them all creaked and groaned.

Then it gave way.

They all screamed as the deck fell to a
forty-five degree angle and then stopped. The deck hung
precariously, sloping downward toward the parking lot.

Time seemed to slow down. Maylee and Dalton
grabbed the left-hand railing. Park grabbed what was left of the
front railing. Angie tipped backward, grabbing at nothing.

Park reached out and caught her wrist. Angie
jerked to a halt, straining her shoulder.

For a second they hung there, shaken and
panting. Seconds inched by. Maylee and Dalton clung to their
railing. Park had one hand on his railing and the other hand
clutched around Angie's wrist. Angie had her feet on the edge of
the deck. Her back bent backward, her head pointed toward the
parking lot.

Angie slowly looked up and saw the corpse
laying on the deck next to Park. The corpse groaned, then slid
toward Angie.

Angie gasped and time began
to speed up. “Inside!” she yelled as the corpse plummeted toward
her.

Dalton and Maylee scrambled off the deck and
into the apartment. Angie leaned to one side, doing her best to
avoid the falling corpse. Her wrist, wet with rain, slipped in
Park's grip. He clutched tighter, his knuckles turning white.

Moaning and reaching, the corpse bounced off
Angie's shoulder and fell to the truck below. Angie heard the
windshield shatter.

Park grunted and pulled Angie toward him.
Angie reached up with her free hand and grabbed the edge of the
deck doorway. Time returned to normal.

Then the deck broke free of the wall.

Angie screamed and pulled herself into the
apartment. Park, still clutching her wrist, began falling. Angie
spun and grabbed Park's arm with both hands. She put her foot up on
the door frame to brace herself. The deck crashed into the truck
beneath Park. The side windows of the truck exploded, shooting
glass out to either side.

Angie's back strained. Park kicked at the
wall, trying to get traction. The wood of the ruined deck shifted
below, hunks of it falling away from the truck. The corpses of
Uncle Bobby and the woman in the closet appeared underneath.
Bobby's face was split from his fall and the woman's legs were
broken. They moaned, gargling in the rain, and reached for Park.
Their fingers scraped the bottom of his boots.

“Shit!” Park said, kicking
at the corpses and trying again and again to get a foothold. His
boots slipped off the wet brick of the wall and dangled back over
the corpses.

“Hold on!” yelled Angie.
She pulled as hard as she could. Park inched up, but not enough.
And not nearly fast enough.

“Kids!” Angie yelled.
“Help!”

Maylee and Dalton rushed up behind her.
Maylee grabbed hold of Park's arm. Angie felt cold sweat as
Maylee's hands brushed hers and knew how scared Maylee was. Dalton
grabbed hold of Angie's waist.

Angie readjusted her foot on the inside of
the door frame. Despite her nap in the car, she was shaking from
exhaustion. Her back ached. Her knee burned.

She drew in a breath.
“Pull!” she yelled. She and the kids pulled. Park moved upward,
more steadily than before. Then he stopped. Suddenly he seemed
twice as heavy.

Angie strained her eyes
downward, not wanting to bend forward and lose any of the lift they
had gained. “Shit!” she yelled.

Uncle Bobby was dangling from Park's left
leg. He moaned and bit at Park's boot.

“Fucker!” Park yelled,
kicking at Bobby with his right boot.

Park kicked again, harder than before. The
motion sent a shudder up his arm and into Angie, Dalton and Maylee.
Maylee's grip slipped off. Park dropped several inches. Angie's
back pulled hard and Dalton dug his arms into Angie's waist.

“Shit!” yelled Park. He
dropped closer to the corpses below. Bobby tried to bite him
farther up the leg. Park's kicks were the only thing keeping the
corpses at bay. The woman from the closet could not stand on her
broken legs. She reached up, her bloody fingers grasping at Park.
The legless corpse from the truck bed was climbing over the roof of
the truck. Angie's whole body shook. She knew she couldn't hold on
much longer.

“Sorry!” yelled Maylee. She
reached past Angie's hands and grabbed hold of Park's arm. “Pull!”
she yelled.

All three of them pulled. Angie's muscles
ached. She strained as hard as she could. She pushed her foot
against the door frame so hard the thin metal of the frame
bent.

Park gave Bobby one last hard kick to the
forehead. Bobby grunted, blood spattering from his mouth, then let
go.

Angie and the kids heaved upward. Park rose
to the lower edge of the doorway. He grabbed the edge, his
fingernails clawing at the carpet, and pulled himself the rest of
the way up. Maylee and Dalton let go. Angie let go, almost falling
over backward.

Park stood up. He spun and
slammed the glass door shut. “Fuck me backwards!” he said, panting
into the glass.

“You okay?” said Angie, her
back and knee aching.

“Yeah.” Park nodded, then
turned to look at Angie and the kids. “You guys okay?”

Maylee and Dalton nodded.
“Yeah,” said Angie.

Park nodded. Angie walked over to the glass
and looked down. The truck was destroyed beyond any hope of
driving.

Park saw what she was
looking at and smirked. “So much for the truck, I
guess.”

“Looks that way,” said
Angie.

They fell silent, staring
at the truck. A soft scratching noise wafted through the
apartment.
Scritch-scritch-scritch
.

Angie looked around,
stepping away from the glass door. “What is that?”

Park looked around. Maylee
and Dalton looked around.
Scritch-scritch-scritch
.

Angie's back went taut.
“Shit,” she whispered “The door.”

Everyone listened
intently.
Scritch-scritch-scritch
. The noise
was coming from the front door. From the hallway beyond.

Angie put a finger to her lips and slowly
walked through the living room, toward the foyer. Park slipped the
rifle off his shoulder and followed. Maylee and Dalton brought up
the rear.

Slowly, they all crept
into the foyer.
Scritch-scritch-scritch
, went the
noise behind the door. It was low, near the bottom. Angie put her
hand on the handle and looked back at Park. Park nodded and readied
the rifle.

Scritch-scritch-scritch
.

Angie drew in a breath and opened the
door.

The corpse of an old woman was on her knees
in the hallway. The woman they'd seen earlier, in the open
apartment down the hall. She'd been eating the man's liver.

Angie pulled back, ready to run or fight.
But the corpse stayed where she was, scratching at the carpet just
inside the door. She moaned, softly. There were many rings on the
woman's hand. She was wearing an expensive-looking top and had long
dangling earrings. Angie wondered what the old woman had been
dressing up for, what she'd been about to do with her husband,
before the death plague hit and she ate his liver instead.

“Come on, guys,” said
Angie, turning around and motioning for Maylee and Dalton to back
up. “Let's go.”

She led her kids back into the living room.
She sat them down on the couch and looked back to the foyer. Park
stared down at the old woman. He rubbed his face with one hand,
then aimed the gun down on her.

He paused, then sighed.

“That's two,” he said,
softly.

Then fired.

Five

Ella twisted back and forth in a free chair
in the Communications Office. The breakroom to her left was crammed
full of Keepers, all talking nervously. Ella ignored them, trying
to focus on the relative quiet of the room she was in. She stared
at the screens, dials and buttons. She understood none of them.
She'd never cared too. Now, she wished desperately she did. She
wished she could use them to find Lori. She'd set Lori free and
then they'd get out of this zoo. This place Gregory had built.
Stepdad.

She was still trembling. The look that
teenage boy had given her, kneeling before the freshly-killed body
of his father. The raw, bleak hate in his eyes.

You're dead,
bitch
.

Caleb sat a few chairs down. He clicked
switch after switch, changing the screens to different camera views
around the zoo. Every so often a camera would catch a visitor,
sometimes whole families, who'd been trapped in the zoo overnight.
Some huddled together, some argued with each other. All looked
scared and angry.

“How could we?” Caleb
asked, staring at the screens. “How could we forget all these
people?”

“We were distracted by the
things outside,” said Shelley, leaning against a chair across the
room. She chewed at her nails and tapped her foot. Ella thought she
looked scared.

“But what do we do now?”
said Caleb, turning to face her.

“Nothing,” said Shelley,
dropping her hand and glaring at him. “We're only making it worse.
They're trapped in here? So are we. We'll leave well enough alone
and wait all this crap out.”