Ashton Memorial (5 page)

She looked up at the sky. Gray and cloudy.
Raindrops fell toward her face. A few hit her cheeks. It would have
been refreshing but Maylee was tired and cold.

A rustle came from the woods.

Maylee's breath caught and she looked back
to the trees. She gripped her bat with both hands.

Just a
breeze
, she thought.

Then she heard it again. A rustle followed
by a crunch of dry leaves or maybe a twig.

That's no
breeze
.

She froze, staring at the woods. Afraid to
make any sound. It could be an animal. Or it could be a corpse. Or
several corpses. What if she’d led them to the gas station?

She heard another crunch and a shape moved
through the trees. It looked like a woman, chubby and short. From
between tree trunks, Maylee could see one of her eyes was missing
and her face was coated in blood.

“Shit,” Maylee whispered.
As far as she could tell, the corpse hadn't noticed her. Hadn't
noticed the gas station at all. Maylee inched toward the bathroom
door. The corpse kept staggering among the trees.

Her hand shaking, Maylee slowly reached for
the door. Slowly, slower than she'd ever done anything in her life,
she pushed the door inward. She heard Dalton grunt and a
splash.

“Gross,” she whispered. She
pushed the door farther in. It gave out a loud squeak.

Maylee gasped, watching the corpse. It
whipped its head around but did not focus on her.

“Maylee!” came Dalton's
voice behind her. “Shut the door, sicko!”

The corpse looked right at Maylee. It
groaned.

“Shit!” said Maylee,
ducking inside and slamming the door.

* * *

Angie watched through the front window of
the gas station as Park moved behind the counter. He looked left to
right, then found something. He walked over and looked down,
studying and fiddling with whatever it was.

She looked around, cold creeping through
her. What was taking him so long? What was taking the kids so long?
Was everything actually taking this long or was she losing her
mind? She was so tired.

A beep came from the pump.
The display flashed for a second, then said
Lift Nozzle And Begin Fueling
. Park
turned to the window and gave her thumbs-up.

Angie sighed and nodded to him. She undid
the gas cap on the car and lifted the nozzle from the pump. She
pushed the nozzle into the gas tank and squeezed the handle. The
nozzle clicked and she heard gas pouring.

She breathed out again, thankful it had
worked.

Then she heard rustling from behind the gas
station. More rustling than the wind had made earlier.

Then moans.

* * *

Park gave Angie a thumbs-up through the
window. She nodded to him and started pumping gas into the car.

He took one last glance down at the control
panel for the pumps. As far as he could tell, everything seemed to
be working. Static still blared from somewhere nearby. He found a
radio under the counter, set on top of some empty boxes. The box
was labeled with the logo of a potato chip company. Park knelt to
switch the radio off, then spent a second staring at the logo.

“Fuck, now I'm hungry,” he
said.

He straightened back up and looked down the
aisle at the teen's body.

“Hey, mind if we get some
food for the road?”

He stared at the teen. Enough of the teen's
head was gone to be safe, wasn't it? How fresh was the body, even?
How long did it take for corpses to get up, if they were going to?
If he just had more ammo, he could be sure.

Park nodded at the body.
“Okay, then. I'll just grab some chips then get out of your
hair.”

The teen was still. Park
nodded again, this time to himself, and walked out from behind the
counter. He scanned the aisles, reading the signs. The one on the
end, farthest from the door, was labeled
Snacks
.

“Fuck shit hell,” grumbled
Park. “It would be the one way the hell over there.”

He walked over to the snack aisle and turned
down it.

A corpse sat on the floor, gnawing at the
mangled remains of another body. It was a little girl, fingers
coated with blood. Her ears were missing, along with most of the
skin on her face. Her black hair was matted with gore. Park stopped
midstep, staring down at her. No ears. She hadn't heard him come
in.

Then the girl saw him. She hissed, bloody
meat falling from her mouth, and lunged for him. Her tiny fingers
closed around his pant leg. Park twisted around, attempting to kick
at the girl, then fell into the snacks. The shelf and Park toppled
over backward. The girl held on to his leg. The rifle was pinned
between his back and the shelf, out of reach.

“Shit!” yelled Park.
“Fucking kid!” He heard a creak and a thud as the shelf behind him
fell over. Then the next, then the next. There was a chaos of
clattering and crashing as cans, bags and auto products fell to the
floor.

The girl clawed her way up Park's clothes,
coming for his face. Park's hand flailed to one side, grabbing at
anything nearby. It closed on something. He brought it up and
slammed it into the girl's face. It was a bag, which split as it
connected with the girl's skull. Potato chips rained down on Park.
The girl gnashed at the bag and the few chips that remained inside,
trying to get to Park. The blood from her skinned face mingled with
the plastic and salt.

Using the remains of the bag as a shield for
his hand, Park pushed the girl's face back until he had enough
leverage to shove. When he did, he flung her to the floor next to
the ruined body she'd been eating.

“Just be happy with what
you got there,” Park said, turning to climb up the fallen shelf.
“Looks delicious.”

* * *

“Get out of here, Maylee!”
yelled Dalton from the toilet, drawing up his legs and covering his
lap.

“Shh!” said Maylee, as
quietly as she could. “There's one of those things out there!” She
spun to face the door, looking for the lock. She found it and
pushed it closed.

“What?” said Dalton behind
her, flushing. “Get Mom!”

“There's no time!” said
Maylee. Moaning came from outside. Then a scratching noise as the
corpse ran its fingers up and down the metal door.

“What are we going to do?”
said Dalton. Maylee heard him zipping up his pants and she
turned.

“I don't know.” She
remembered the bat in her hand. “I guess there's just the one, and
we got the bat. If we can get to Mom...”

A second groan came from behind the door. A
different voice. Something slammed against the door so hard it
shook.

“Shit!” said Maylee,
spinning around. The door rattled. The old lock would give before
long.

“Maylee,” said
Dalton.

Maylee scanned the room, panic creeping
through her. She saw the toilet Dalton had been on, a sink and an
old rusted space heater.

She pointed to the heater.
“Plug that thing in.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!” yelled
Maylee. A third moan came from the door. The metal door shook
again, harder than before.

Dalton went to the space heater and,
kneeling down, plugged it in. The coils hummed and started to
glow.

“Pick it up!” ordered
Maylee. She ran to one wall and set her bat against it. She'd need
both hands for what she had in mind.

“It'll get hot!”

“Don't touch the hot parts,
dumbass!” Maylee ran to the toilet paper dispenser. She unrolled as
much as she could as quickly as she could. She tore the mass free
and ran to the sink. She shoved the paper into the drain until it
was completely clogged.

“What are you doing?” said
Dalton, gingerly holding the space heater.

Still standing at the sink,
Maylee used her foot to kick the lid of the toilet down. “Stand on
the toilet!”

“What? Why?” said Dalton.
The door shook and rattled hard. Any second now, Maylee knew, the
lock would break. Groans and hissing came from outside.

“Just do it!” Maylee turned
on the water in the sink. Both taps, full blast.

* * *

Angie whipped her head from side to side,
looking for the source of the moans. They seemed to come from
everywhere. The gas nozzle clicked off behind her. The tank was
full. The rain started full strength. Cold, hard and fast.

Corpses stumbled from the right side of the
gas station. Five of them, maybe. The rain made it hard to
tell.

Angie looked to the station. Park struggled
with a corpse inside. Moans came from the left side of the station.
From where the bathrooms were.

Angie's chest tightened and
she ran toward the bathrooms. “Maylee! Dalton!”

Corpses stumbled around from the left side,
blocking her way.

* * *

Park climbed up the fallen shelf, heading
for the shelf behind it. Bags of chips crunched underneath him. The
girl's fingers closed on his leg from behind.

“Dammit, girl! You could
have attacked me when I didn't have my fucking gun on my fucking
back!” He considered reaching for the rifle, but if he let go of
the shelf he would slide down to her waiting hands and mouth. He
kicked blindly with his free leg. He connected and heard a wet
crunch. The girl let go and Park clambered to the next shelf.
Magazines. Cars, musicians and porno. He climbed up the shelf but
the slick glossy paper gave him no footing. He slipped and fell
back toward the first shelf. He turned, struggling to reach the
gun. His hand found the barrel but it was again pinned between his
back and the shelf. He saw the girl coming for him.

He grabbed a magazine as
he slid toward the girl.
Drunk and
Willing
, the magazine said. Park had
several issues himself. He rolled the magazine up and slammed the
girl across the face. Her head whipped to one side but she quickly
corrected. She climbed back up on his chest, hissing and snapping
at his face.

Park shoved the end of the rolled-up
magazine into her mouth. She gurgled and gnashed her teeth at the
paper, shredding it. Bits of paper floated down to Park's chest as
he pushed the magazine and the girl away from him.

He shoved hard and she fell back. He turned
and climbed up the shelf. This time he made it over the magazines
and onto the next rack. Auto supplies. Oil and steering fluid. This
was the aisle the teen was in. Park briefly wondered where the
teen's body had gone, then realized it was hidden under the fallen
shelf.

He cast a glance back at the girl. She was
coming after him but was still climbing up the snacks. Again he
considered the rifle, but he couldn't afford letting go of the
shelf.

“Sorry kid,” Park said,
“but I gotta go.”

He turned and started to climb up the auto
supply shelf. A new hand closed on his arm.

Park looked at the hand and followed it to
the source. The teen, most of his head chewed open, was grabbing
for him.

“You gotta be fucking
kidding,” said Park, pulling his arm away. The teen was weak. He
moaned softly and moved his head limply from side to side. Dark
blood and slime oozed from the shallow hole in the teen’s
head.

Park heard hissing from behind him and
turned to see the girl. She was on the magazine rack now. Her
bloody face dripped onto the paper. She gnashed her red teeth at
him. The teen from his side moaned and grabbed for him again.

Park turned back to climb up the shelf.
Beyond the shelf lay the window leading outside the station. The
teen clutched at his shoulder, stronger now. Park struggled to pull
away. He could hear the girl getting closer behind him.

Park grabbed a can of motor
oil and turned as best he could with the teen's hand on his
shoulder. He flung the can at the girl as hard as he could manage.
It slammed against her forehead with a loud “crack”. She blinked
her bloody eyes and slid back down the shelf.

The teen to his side gurgled and leaned in
to bite. Blood pooled in the teen's mouth and drained from his
ears. Park grabbed a second can and brought it down on the teen's
head. The teen gurgled and let go. Park brought the can down again.
The boy's skull popped and brain matter oozed out. The teen gave a
final, soft moan and fell back.

“Dammit,” said Park. “Stay
down this time.”

The girl hissed behind him. Park looked back
to see her nearly upon him.

* * *

Maylee watched the sink fill as Dalton
climbed onto the toilet, holding the space heater. Corpses banged
on the door. The door shook and rattled, sounding looser all the
time. Maylee wondered how long they had.

“Maylee,” said Dalton from
the toilet. He sounded nervous.

“Hold on,” she said. The
sink filled up and water overflowed onto the floor. Water spread to
Maylee's feet and beyond.

Maylee turned and looked at the door. The
groans behind it were too numerous to count. The banging and
clawing were coming faster. The door rattled hard, nearly giving
way.

She ran to the toilet and climbed up next to
Dalton. There was barely enough room for both of them. She
struggled to balance.

“Give me the heater,” she
said.

Dalton handed it to her.
“No arguments there!”