Angie looked to the back seat. Both kids were wide awake and staring.
“You guys okay?” Angie said.
Maylee and Dalton nodded. “What happened?” said Dalton.
“Some people are fucking stupid,” said Park. “That's what happened.”
“Are they hurt?” said Maylee, leaning forward.
“Who cares?” said Park, putting the car into reverse and backing up.
“Parker!” yelled Angie. Park glanced at her and stopped the car.
“What?”
Angie leaned in to whisper, sharp and brittle. “You will not talk to my children that way.” She leaned back and spoke at a normal volume. “Maylee might be right. We should check on them.”
“They're the idiots. They almost got us killed.”
“Not the other car. The ones they hit.”
Park shrugged as if to indicate she had a point. “Fine. Let's check.”
He and Angie undid their seat belts and opened their doors. Angie turned to Dalton and Maylee in the back. “Stay here.”
Angie shut her door and looked up the road to the wreck. The truck and car were badly crumpled. Neither looked remotely drivable. She saw movement inside both.
“They're moving in there,” she said.
“Yeah,” said Park, shutting his door and readying his rifle. “But that could mean fucking anything nowadays.”
Angie nodded. “You just have two shots left?”
Park nodded.
“Let's be careful then.”
They both walked toward the wreck. Angie glanced over at the long line of cars filling up the other side of the freeway. She saw people staring at her, Park and the wreck.
The truck shook as they approached. The driver's side door opened with a loud creak. A man climbed out, crawling across the seat on his hands and knees, and stood shakily on the road. He had a ball cap and a work shirt that read Chuck. He saw Angie and Park approaching.
“Everyone okay?” said Angie, tension creeping up her back. Was the guy even alive?
Chuck looked around, blinking his eyes. Then he rushed to Angie and Park. He moved like one in pain, using a kind of limping run, but moved faster than any of the corpses Angie had seen so far.
Both she and Park stopped.
“You better say something soon, buddy,” said Park, aiming the rifle.
“What?” said Chuck, seeing the gun and stopping. “Don't shoot! I'm still alive. I just need your car.”
He resumed limp-running toward them. Angie took a step back. Park cocked the rifle.
“Well, that ain't fucking going to happen,” said Park. “Sorry buddy.”
“No!” yelled Chuck, stopping and whipping his cap off in frustration. “You have to! I have to get to my fiancé! You don't understand!” He had a wild look that made Angie nervous.
“We understand,” she said, holding up her hands in a gesture she hoped would stop him from coming any farther. “There's nothing we can do. We can't give you our car.”
Park stepped forward, still aiming the rifle. “So turn the fuck back, buddy. I've seen a lot scarier than you in the last 24 hours and I'm getting to my fucking girls!”
Chuck stopped, looking honestly, tragically confused. Angie noticed blood creeping from his hairline. Shit, she thought. He's hurt. She considered calling an ambulance, but knew full well none would come. Not today.
“But...” Chuck started.
“Hey!” came a voice from behind Chuck. “Asshole!” Chuck turned to look. Angie and Park looked past him. The driver's door on the wrecked car was open. An older man, Angie guessed maybe in his fifties or sixties, climbed out. His arm was crooked and bleeding. Behind him an older woman climbed from the passenger seat. “Norman?” she called.
“Stay in the car, Martha!” yelled the older man, presumably Norman. Martha limped to the back seat. A much older woman sat limply there.
“Sir?” said Angie. “Are you okay? We saw the accident.”
“How nice for you,” said Norman, walking toward them. “Now give me your fucking car!” Angie noticed something in his good hand, swinging with him as he walked. A crowbar.
“This is nuts,” said Park, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and holding up his hands. “You both have your little wreck party, we're going.” He turned to Angie. “Aren't we?”
She looked at her car, at the kids, then at Chuck and the approaching Norman. She sighed. “Yeah.”
They both turned and moved toward the car.
“Hey!” said Norman from behind them. “Where the fuck do you think you're going?”
Angie saw something hit Park in the back. It was shiny and fell to the ground with a jingling sound. She and Park stopped.
Park looked to the ground, then at Norman. “Did you just throw your fucking keys, old man?”
“You're giving me your fucking car, hillbilly!” said Norman, still coming.
Chuck blinked at Norman. “Does your car work?”
“You shut up,” said Norman, pointing at Chuck as he walked past him. “This is your fault!” Then he pointed at Angie and Park. “And you! I'm taking your car! My mother has to get to her heart doctor in Ashton.”
“Listen, sir,” said Angie, growing increasingly nervous with each step the man took. “Maybe we can give you and your family a ride.”
“I never said anything about sharing, redneck bitch! I said you were giving me your fucking car!”
Angie heard a door on her car open. She turned and saw Maylee climb from the back seat. “Mom?” said Maylee.
“Get back in the car, Maylee!” said Angie, turning back to the older man.
“No, get out of the car!” said Norman, still swinging the crowbar with each step. “Everybody out of the car!”
“Please!” said Chuck, reaching out and grabbing Norman's shoulder. Norman wrenched away.
“Keep your fucking hands off me!” he yelled, swinging the crowbar at Chuck. It connected with Chuck's chest. A loud sharp “crack” rang out. Chuck staggered back, blinking in surprise. Norman panted.
Chuck reached up to his chest. He opened his mouth to speak and blood leaked out. He swayed, then fell backward and was still.
“Great!” yelled Norman crazily. “Just great. Now he's dead and they'll blame me!”
Angie and Park took slow steps backward. Toward the car. Park slid the rifle strap from his shoulder. “I really don't want to waste the bullet, buddy. So back off!”
“You!” said Norman, pointing the crowbar at Angie. “You saw him! He attacked me! He might have been turning into one of those things!”
Martha gave a moaning cry from the back seat of the wrecked car. “Norman!”
Norman either didn't hear or ignored her. He stepped toward Angie and Park. “Now give me the car and we'll call it even.”
“You're not making the slightest little bit of fucking sense, asshole,” said Park.
“Fuck you!” yelled the man, raising the crowbar and running at Park.
“Get to the car!” yelled Park to Angie. He moved to shoot. Angie moved to block Norman's run. There was no way he was getting to her kids.
“Norman!” shrieked Martha. Norman stopped mid-run and frowned. He turned back to face the wrecked car. “What the fuck is it, woman? I'm getting the car! We're getting her to the doctor.”
“She's dead! Your mother is dead!” Martha yelled. The back door of the wrecked car was open. She sat in the back seat with her legs out and feet on the road. The much older woman, Angie guessed Norman's mother, lay across her lap. Norman's mother was still.
“What?” said Norman.
Martha was crying. “She must have died in the wreck!”
Norman took a faltering step toward the wreck, then stopped. “Mom?”
Norman's mother sat up and bit into Martha's cheek. Martha gasped in surprise, then screamed. Blood, thick and red, poured from her wound and down Norman's mother's face. Norman's mother reared back, tearing free a long strip of flesh from Martha's chee
k. Martha shrieked, the muscles in her face exposed and flexing. Norman's mother moaned greedily and chewed.
“Martha!” yelled Norman, running back toward the wrecked car. Norman's mother leaned back up and buried her wrinkled face into Martha's throat. Martha's shrieks turned to gurgles. Norman's mother's head bobbed back and forth as she chewed. Martha kicked and convulsed, blood and foamed saliva dripping from her mouth. Her eyes rolled back into her head.
“Martha! Mom!” Norman yelled, stopping in the road and staring. “No!”
“We gotta go,” said Angie.
“Fuck yeah we do,” said Park.
They turned back toward the car. Angie felt a hand close on her ankle. Angie cried out in surprise. She twisted her head around to see that Chuck had crawled across the pavement. Or rather, his corpse had. He groaned and jerked at her leg. Angie lost her balance and fell face forward onto the street.
“Mom!” yelled Maylee, opening the car door. She had her bat ready.
“Stay in the car, Maylee!” said Angie, lifting her head. She felt blood seeping from a split lip. Maylee stayed where she stood, door open, but did not approach.
Chuck growled, tightening his grip on her leg. Angie flipped over onto her back just in time to see Park aiming the rifle for Chuck's head.
“Don't do it!” she yelled. “Don't waste the bullet! Just get him to let go!”
“Fine, crazy-ass,” said Park. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and kicked at Chuck's arm. The kick was hard. Chuck shook from the impact but did not let go. He moaned a wet, gurgling noise and tugged at Angie.
“Fuck you, you fucking fuck fucker!” said Park, kneeling. “Making me get down on my bad fucking knee. Fuck!” He grabbed Chuck's hand and pried the fingers away from Angie's leg.
Angie scrambled to her feet. She ran the back of her hand across her lip and scowled at the bright smear of blood left behind. Park, still on his knees, wrestled with Chuck. Chuck writhed his arms around and growled. Park struggled to keep hold.
“Keep him down!” yelled Angie, looking around for a blunt weapon. None presented itself. She saw that Norman had turned around. He stared at Chuck and Park. His eyes were wide and he held the crowbar defensively.
She gave Norman a look. “Fuck it,” she whispered. She stepped over to Chuck and brought her foot up over his forehead. She slammed down, pounding the sole of her sneaker against his skull. He blinked and moaned. She grumbled and slammed down again, harder. This time she heard a “crack.” Chuck slowed a little but kept writhing and moaning.
“Fucker!” she yelled and stomped down a third time, so hard the impact jarred her spine. There was a loud “pop” and thick globs of red shot out from behind Chuck's head, spreading across the asphalt. Chuck's arms went limp.
Park let go. Chuck's arms fell to the ground. Chuck was still. Park stood, nodding to Angie.
“I got him ready for you,” he said.
“Sure you did,” she said.
They both looked over at Norman. He was staring, mouth open, at them. The crowbar hung loose in his hand.
Angie dragged the bottom of her sneaker across the road, wiping blood and bits of flesh onto the pavement. She looked at Norman. He stared at her.
“What?” she asked.
He dropped the crowbar, turned and ran. He ran past the wreck, past Martha's corpse and his chewing mother. He ran up the freeway, farther and farther away from Angie and Park.
“Now where's he going?” said Angie.
“Fuck knows,” said Park, shrugging. He scratched at his beard. “Back to the car?”
Angie nodded. “Yeah. I'll drive.”
Three
Ella watched a tapir wander back and forth in its exhibit. The red-brown animal shuffled its feet and sniffed the air nervously with its snout.
“Gary's upset,” said Ella, leaning on the railing that separated the public from the exhibit. Beyond that was a deep concrete ditch to keep the tapirs from escaping. Beyond that was a fairly convincing re-creation of the creature's South American habitat. “He can tell what's going on outside.”
Tom stepped up next to her, pulling his Keeper vest around himself in an attempt to block the fall wind. “How the hell can you even tell them apart?”
Ella rolled her eyes at him, pointing at the different tapirs in order. “That's Gary, that's Ricky, that's Bella, and that's Steve.”
“Steve?” said Shelley. She stood next to Tom, her arms crossed. “The same Steve as the chair in the breakroom?” She nodded to the tapir Ella had last indicated. “Is that his chair?”
“Yes.” Ella nodded. “But he can't sit in it because he's a tapir.”
Shelley shook her head, looking flustered, and walked away. Ella smiled. She liked flustering Shelley.
“Where's my sister, Gary?” said Ella to the first tapir.
“I doubt he knows, Ella,” said Caleb from behind her.
“I know,” said Ella, turning. Caleb adjusted a rifle on his shoulder. Several other Keepers stood behind him. The closest, a young man just out of high school, nodded at the rifle.
“Do you think we'll need that?” he said, looking nervous. He pushed his greasy black hair back and rubbed his hand across his face.
“It's just tranquilizer darts, Lee,” said Caleb. “In case one of the animals got out during the confusion yesterday.”
Ella shuddered, remembering the day before. It had been late afternoon and she and Lori had told the bus driver to let them off at the zoo. They wanted to visit Mom. Lori complained about having to still take the bus.
“Another year,” Lori said, “and I'll have a car.”
“Nope.” Ella shook her head as they walked across the zoo's parking lot. “Just me. Mom said. She also said I could paint it to look like a spaceship.”
“She said no such thing,” said Lori, sticking her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket and drawing in her arms to block the cold.
“Don't worry,” said Ella. “I'll give you rides. But you'll have to wear an astronaut helmet.”
Lori rolled her eyes and Ella chuckled. It would be the last good thing that day.
They made their way into the zoo and to the Communications Office. “Hey girls,” Mom said, stepping over and hugging both of them in turn as they entered. “I gotta run back home real quick. Your dad's...”
“Stepdad's,” Ella said, quietly.
“...car is acting up. I need to give him a ride back here.”
“I'll go with you,” said Lori.
“Sure,” said Mom, smiling. She looked at Ella. “You coming, El?”
Ella thought about it, then made the decision that would later make her chest hurt. “Nope. I'll wait here.”
So off they went. Ella spent a good thirty minutes making Caleb switch the view screens from camera to camera so she could look at the different animals. Then Lee ran in from the breakroom, pale and wide-eyed.
“There's something bad on the news,” he said. Ella and the others followed Lee back to the breakroom and crowded around the small TV.
They saw a group of people holding down a screaming woman in front of a grocery store. The woman grunted and jerked, trying to pull free. A cop ran over, the news camera jerking to follow him, and pulled the people off her. He bent down to help her up and she bit into the cop's neck. The cop pulled away, clutching his neck in shock as blood ran through his fingers. He fell to his knees as the woman crawled to him. The group ran, knocking the camera over.
Within a few minutes of channel surfing, they had gleaned what was happening. Corpses were moving and indiscriminately eating. Clip after clip of people running or dying. Sometimes both. And the ones that were dead got up and attacked. Caleb flipped to another local channel and they watched the grocery store footage again.
“Wait,” said Shelley, leaning in closer to the TV. “Oh my god, I know that store. It's three blocks away.”
They all rushed back to the Communications Office. Caleb switched on as many screens as he could at once. The c
ameras outside the zoo all showed corpses gathering. Mangled and misshapen people, bent and torn and gnashing their rotten teeth. The cameras inside the zoo showed no sign of them. Just visitors wandering the zoo, most of them oblivious. A few were on cell phones and looking very worried.
“Lock it down!” yelled Tom. “Before those fuckers get in!”
“But Mom!” said Ella. “Lori!”
Caleb looked at Tom, then at Ella. “I'm sorry, Ella. Your mom has a keycard for when they get back.”
He flipped open the panel that controlled the electronic locking system Gregory had recently installed. Another of his advances he was so proud of. The panel had two lines of switches. The ones for the animal cages were lit up red. The ones for the doors were lit up green. Caleb flipped all the door switches to red, using his palms to flip as many at once as he could.
“No!” said Ella, stepping back and biting her thumb. She reached in her jeans pocket for her cell phone. Her heart dropped when the pocket was empty. She'd left her phone at home. She'd complained about it all day at school. It was a minor annoyance then. Now it was devastating
Caleb looked at her and shook his head. “I'm sorry. We have to keep everyone safe.”
The TV showed increasingly worse images, culminating in graveyards filled with holes, some with corpses still clawing their way out. Any graveyard anywhere could easily produce hundreds of the things at once. Almost everywhere was overrun within hours.
As the night went on, they slowly lost all contact with the outside world. The TV channels went out one by one. Then the radio channels followed. Finally, the Keepers were no longer able to reach loved ones on their cell phones.
Finally, somewhere around 3 A.M., Gregory's voice came over the speakers. He said everything was fine, he was in the zoo and he would share more later. Before he clicked off, Ella thought she heard Lori screaming.
“Where did he call from?” Ella said, rushing over to the controls.
Caleb looked at screens Ella didn't understand. He frowned. “I can't tell. That's weird. I should be able to tell.”
Then nothing the rest of the night nor into the morning, until the second call from Gregory came. The one where he told Ella her mother was dead and he had her sister. He had her sister and wouldn't tell her where. He'd hung up after she'd screamed at him. Again, Caleb had not been able to tell where he called from.
Ashton Memorial Page 6
