Ashton Memorial

by Robert R. Best

  “Jerk off, mostly.”

  “Park!” she said, glancing back at the kids. “I said watch the swearing.”

  “'Jerk' and 'off' are both acceptable words.”

  Angie chuckled as the car rounded a hill. The exit to the freeway came into view. Farther up, the road they were on became an overpass. Under that, the freeway to Ashton ran east to west. A few cars sped by, but not many. A gas station sat to the left, just before the exit.

  “We need gas,” said Angie. “Our little road trip was unexpected.”

  She slowed the car and pulled into the gas station's parking lot. It was empty. The neon sign in the window said Open, but Angie could see no one inside.

  “No one's here,” said Park.

  “Yeah, but this station's pay-at-the-pump. It should be all automated.”

  “You know that?”

  “I hope that.”

  She pulled to the nearest pump and pushed the shifter up. She looked at the pump, relieved to see its automated display was still lit. She shut off the engine.

  “What's going on?” said Dalton from the back seat. Angie turned in her seat to see him stretching and looking around. Maylee was waking up as well.

  “We're getting gas before we get on the freeway,” said Angie.

  “Are we really gonna stay with Uncle Bobby?” he asked.

  “Maybe,” said Angie, her stomach clenching at the thought. “But we have to get to Ashton first.”

  She opened her door, letting the cold fall air into the car. “You guys stay here.” She climbed out and shut the door.

  She shivered, looking around. She was still wearing her hospital smock and the wind went straight through it. The sky was gray and cloudy. It looked like rain.

  She walked over to the pump. Please Insert Card Or Press Pay Inside, the display said. Angie realized again she'd left her purse back at the hospital.

  She cursed under her breath and tapped on Park’s window. Park rolled it down. “Yeah?”

  “I need in the glove compartment,” said Angie, shivering again.

  “Keep a gun in there?” he said, leaning forward to open the compartment. “We could use that.”

  “Yeah, I guess we could. But no. I need the owner’s manual for the car.”

  Park frowned, reaching in and producing a battered booklet from the glove compartment. “I used to work at a gas station, you know. Fixing cars and shit.” He handed the book to her.

  “Don't need that right now, thanks.” She opened the book to the back. A credit card was hidden between the back cover and the last page. She took out the card and showed it to Park. “I keep this in here for emergencies.”

  “Like the end of the world?” Park scratched his scruffy beard and looked at her.

  “Stop saying that.” Angie closed the book and handed it back to Park. “It's not the end of the world.”

  “Seems like a pretty likely candidate for it.”

  “Just roll up the window. It's cold and the kids don't have their jackets.”

  Park shrugged and rolled up the window. Angie turned to the pump, credit card in hand. She slid the card into the slot and pulled it out.

  Processing, the display said. For a long time.

  Then it said, DATA ERROR 332.

  Then, Please Insert Card Or Press Pay Inside.

  Angie frowned and slid the card in again. She pulled it out and waited.

  Processing.

  DATA ERROR 332.

  Please Insert Card Or Press Pay Inside.

  “Dammit,” she whispered to herself. She stepped to one side, trying to see inside the gas station. It looked empty. All the lights were on, but it looked empty.

  She heard a car door open and turned. Park climbed out of his seat and shut the door. “Problem?” he said, adjusting the rifle on his shoulder.

  “Card's not going through,” Angie said, sighing and looking around.

  Park frowned. “Let me try it.” He held out his hand for the card.

  “I said it wasn't working, Park. I know how to use a gas pump.”

  “No one's saying you don't. I just want to fucking try it my fucking self.”

  Angie sighed and gave him the card.

  She turned as he started messing with the pump. She took a few steps away from the car, looking around. The lot was empty and quiet. The surrounding woods were quiet. The cold breeze and the occasional car on the freeway were the only sounds.

  Was that a faint groan?

  “Well fuck,” said Park. “Phone line must be down.”

  Angie turned, a little startled, and saw Park step back from the pump.

  “It's okay,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. She was suddenly anxious to get back in the car. “We have enough gas to get to another one off the freeway.”

  “Don't be stupid,” said Park, tapping the card against his other hand and looking around. “I used to work at a gas station. There's a panel inside to turn the pumps on.”

  Angie stomped over to him and snatched her credit card back. “I'm not stealing gas, Park.”

  Park snorted. “Well excuse me, but we need the gas. And by this time tomorrow someone else will have taken it anyway.”

  “You're no better than those fucking looters on my street!” she yelled.

  “This is different and you sure as fuck know it!”

  “How?”

  “No one's living in the goddamned gas station, for one!”

  They both stopped yelling and looked over at the car. Dalton and Maylee were staring at them.

  Angie turned back to Park and whispered. “We're going.”

  “Wait,” whispered Park. “How much gas do we actually have?”

  Angie sighed. “Under a quarter of a tank.”

  He snorted again. “Unless you get great mileage, that's not enough to get us to the next gas station on the freeway. And even if it was, how do we know it won't be the same as this?”

  Angie looked at him, then over at the kids. She imagined them broken down on the freeway, corpses closing in around the car. She imagined the corpses reaching through the windows, their rotten and slimy arms grasping at Maylee and Dalton. She could smell the blood as they bit into her children. She'd smelled a lot of blood in the past twenty-four hours.

  She blinked the image away and looked back to Park. “Fine. For them. I'll let you steal the gas for the kids.”

  Park nodded, looking at the car then at Angie. He shrugged and smirked. “You can tell the cops I forced you.”

  Angie smirked back. “You bet your ass I will. Now go turn the gas on.” She leaned back against the car to wait. “But be careful. It looks empty from here, but you know how that goes.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded, staring at the station.

  Park stared for a moment longer. The he shrugged and started walking.

  Angie watched him. For a moment his footsteps were the only sound. Then another breeze rustled the dry leaves still clinging to the surrounding trees. Angie looked around. There never was much traffic on these country roads, but still, where was everyone? How many had been lucky like Angie, her kids and Park? How many had died? And Angie knew full well what dying now meant.

  Again, was that a faint moan?

  Angie felt cold, colder than the wind would account for.

  A noise behind her sent fear up her spine. She spun to see Dalton rolling down his window. She let her breath out and bent down to his level.

  “What is it, baby?” she said.

  “I have to pee,” said Dalton.

  “Me too,” said Maylee from across the back seat.

  Angie sighed. “Fine. Go behind the car.”

  “What?” said Maylee. “There's a bathroom right there!” She pointed at the side of the station.

  “Maylee, I can't let you guys out of my sight right now. Those things are everywhere. So either go behind the car where I can see you or wait until we get gas and I can go with you.”

  Maylee scowled and sat back. Dalton squirmed and loo
ked at Angie.

  “Mom?” he said.

  “Yeah baby?” said Angie. “What is it now?”

  “I don't just have to pee.”

  “Gross!” said Maylee, pulling away from Dalton.

  Angie sighed. “You mean number two?”

  “Double gross!” said Maylee.

  Dalton nodded. “And I'll need toilet paper to wipe.”

  Maylee stuck her fingers in her ears. “La la la la!”

  Angie looked at the gas station. Park was nearly to the door. It would be a few minutes to get the gas pump going, then several after that to fill the tank. She looked back to Dalton. Maylee removed her fingers from her ears.

  “Bad?” asked Angie.

  Dalton nodded.

  Maylee leaned forward to look at Angie. “It's daylight now. We can see those things coming.”

  Angie sighed and looked at Dalton. He was squirming and clutching his stomach.

  “Fine,” she said. “But hurry. And if you hear the slightest thing, even a bird, you get the hell back here.”

  Maylee nodded and undid her belt. She opened her door and climbed out. She reached back inside and pulled out her bat. “Damn,” she said, shutting the door. “It's cold out here.”

  “Just hurry,” said Angie, looking back to the station. Park was opening the door. “Before Dalton has an accident.”

  “Double ultra-mega-gross.” Maylee walked over to Dalton's door. Angie stepped to one side as Dalton opened it and climbed out. Maylee took his hand.

  “I don't need my hand held!” said Dalton, snatching it away.

  “Hold your sister's hand, Dalton,” said Angie. “I can't have you guys getting separated.”

  Maylee held out her hand and Dalton scowled at it. Then he grabbed hold. “I'll be sure to use that hand to wipe, then let you hold it on the way back.”

  “Gross times infinity,” said Maylee.

  “Go, guys, now,” said Angie. A raindrop hit her hand and she looked up at the clouds. Another hit her cheek and she looked back to her kids. “Before I change my mind.”

  Maylee set off across the lot, pulling Dalton with her. She had her bat in her other hand. Angie hoped she wouldn't need it.

  * * *

  Park pushed open the glass door and stepped inside. He looked around, letting the door swing shut behind him.

  The lights were on, one of the fluorescent tubes giving off a slight flicker. Static blared from behind the counter. Park guessed it came from a radio.

  “Hello?” he said, just in case.

  Nothing.

  He took a step farther inside and saw blood. A pool of it, just outside one of the aisles. Red smears ran from the pool, up the aisle and out of Park's sight.

  “Fuck me sideways,” said Park, sliding the rifle strap from his shoulder. He readied the rifle and took a cautious step toward the blood. Static blared. The flickering florescent tube was giving Park a headache.

  He took another step and drew near to the aisle. He looked back outside through the window. Angie was waiting for the gas to turn on. Maylee was leading Dalton across the lot, toward the side of the station. To the bathroom, Park figured.

  Park turned back to the blood. “You better just be blood,” he said. He drew in a breath, cocked the rifle and rounded the corner.

  The smears ran to a body. A young man, maybe a teenager, was sprawled face down in the aisle. The blue vest on the teen's back told Park he'd been working the counter. The large shallow hole in the teen's head told Park he was dead.

  “Shit, son,” said Park, reshouldering the rifle. He stepped closer. The teen's head looked chewed open. Park prodded the teen's leg with his foot. He hoped the head was damaged deeply enough to keep him down.

  “Well,” said Park down to the teen. “I guess if you were gonna get up you would have done it before we got here.”

  The teen's body remained still. Static blared and the light flickered.

  “I'll be taking some gas and turning your radio down, if that's okay.” He stared at the teen, watching for any sign of movement. He wondered if he should use a bullet to be sure.

  “Okay then. Don't get up on my account.” Park turned and walked out of the aisle, doing his best to avoid stepping in any blood.

  * * *

  Maylee held tight to Dalton's hand, pulling him along with her.

  “Hurry, Maylee,” said Dalton, hand on his stomach.

  “I am,” said Maylee. “Please, just don't shit your pants.”

  “I'm telling Mom you cussed.”

  “I'll tell her you shit your pants.”

  “I didn't!” said Dalton.

  “You will, though. Any second now.”

  “Nuh-uh!”

  “Hold it, then,” said Maylee. She stopped as they reached the corner of the station. She gripped the handle of her bat tightly with her free hand.

  “Hurry!” said Dalton. “I have to go!”

  “I know, Dalton, I know. But we have to be careful.” She peered around the corner, looking down the side wall where the bathroom was. “These things can be anywhere.”

  “But you told Mom we could see them now.”

  “We can't if they're hiding in the trees.” She scanned the woods behind the gas station. She saw nothing.

  But was she sure?

  After a moment, she turned back to Dalton. “Okay, it’s clear. Come on.”

  They hurried along the side of the gas station. The bathroom was set midway along the wall. The door was dirty and rusted. Men was printed on it. Next to the printing were words scrawled with magic marker. And Women. Other One's Busted.

  “Joy,” said Maylee. “Get in there and hurry before I piss my pants.”

  Dalton ran for the door and pushed it open. She caught a glimpse of the toilet. It was filthy. Dalton stopped, looking at it.

  “Gross.”

  “It's that or the woods,” said Maylee. “Just hurry. And leave the door unlocked in case you have to get out quick.”

  Dalton scrunched up his nose and stepped inside. The door shut with a squeak behind him.

  Maylee leaned against the wall, just next to the door. She could hear muffled sounds of Dalton going to the bathroom.

  “Gross beyond all space and time,” she whispered, focusing on her surroundings. The raindrops came more quickly now. Several pattered at her feet, disappearing into the dry leaves and grass. She scanned the trees again. Still nothing.

  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.