Ashton Memorial

by Robert R. Best

The lock clicked open. Lori slammed her phone back onto the floor, shattering it. She flung the pieces away from her as the door opened. He couldn't know what she'd done. He had to think his plans were still secret.

  She forced herself to cry as the door swung fully open and Gregory stepped inside. His feet walked over to where she lay on the floor.

  “What are you doing, Lori?” He said. His voice was cold, annoyed.

  “You broke my phone!” yelled Lori. She wanted to sound like a child having a tantrum.

  He reached down and pulled her to her feet. A little roughly. It scared Lori.

  “Grow up, Lori,” said Gregory, reaching down to pull the broken chair out of the ropes. He left the ropes on her legs. He pulled the wood free and tossed it aside. The rope was looser, but not loose enough to fight. Or loose enough to run.

  He sighed and shook his head at her. “Well, I hope you're happy you broke your chair. You've got quite a walk ahead of you and you could have used the rest.”

  Lori glared at him, glad at how wet and red her eyes were. She wanted him to think she was weak. Helpless.

  He shook his head. “You're in danger, Lori. You have to be more careful. You're the daughter of the ruler of Ashton Memorial. Try to start acting like it.”

  He left her standing there, shaken and bewildered. She watched as he prepared to leave.

  Eighteen

  Angie held up her hand, motioning for the others behind her to stop. They did. They'd amassed a good-sized group by now. All the weapons Angie and Park collected from the shed were spoken for. The wheelbarrow was abandoned, and Park stood next to her, rifle ready.

  The Zoo Bites stood at the bottom of the hill.

  “We're hungry,” said someone behind her.

  “I know,” said Angie. “We all are. But we can't risk just rushing it. Who knows how the crazy zookeepers would react?”

  “They better react by giving us food,” said someone else behind her. Angie heard the clank of tools being brandished.

  “The weapons are for defense against corpses or animals,” said Angie. “Not people.” She took the communicator from her pocket and made sure it was set to broadcast.

  “Keepers aren't people,” muttered someone behind her.

  Angie ignored that and clicked the communicator on. She held it to her mouth. “Attention people in the Zoo Bites.” Her voice echoed around. “My name is Angela Land. I have a group of hungry people here with me. We just want food. Please step aside and let us have it. I promise we won't take more than we need.”

  “Don't speak for me,” said someone behind Angie. “I'll take as much as I want.”

  Park frowned next to her. “Think you're making a mistake thinking you can control these people?”

  Angie lowered the communicator. “I'm not controlling anyone. We're just trying to get food. Then we're going to get your daughter.”

  “You think crazy-ass will just give her up?”

  “When he sees how many of us there are, he'll have to.”

  “You mean when he sees the army you're raising,” said Park.

  “I'm not raising an army,” said Angie.

  “Like to know what else the fuck to call it.”

  Down below, the Zoo Bites was quiet. No sign that anyone inside heard her. No sign there was anyone inside.

  Angie raised the communicator to her lips and clicked it on. “We're coming down now. Please be ready for us with food. Thank you.”

  She lowered the communicator and stuck it back into her pocket. She looked over at Park, then back down at the Zoo Bites. “What do you think?”

  Park shrugged. “Don't think we can keep your army waiting much longer.”

  “Quit calling them that.” She turned to the others. They all clutched tools and shovels. They all looked desperate and hungry. “Okay, everyone. We're going down. If they start shooting, don't panic. Everyone retreat back up here as quickly as you can. Got it?”

  They nodded. Angie nodded, both to them and to herself, and started down the hill. Park followed her. Then the rest of the group.

  Rain pattered down around them as they trudged down the hill. Everything was silent. No groans. No growls. No sounds from inside the Zoo Bites. It occurred to her that there were no people outside, either. When she'd been here before with Dalton, there were people milling around outside. Waiting to be fed. Where were they?

  They reached the doors and Angie held up a hand to stop. Everyone did. She hadn't planned on this. She'd assumed by this point a group of zookeepers would come out. She assumed they would argue. She assumed they would eventually bring food. She hadn't planned on opening the doors herself.

  She peered through the glass. Plastic tables and chairs sat empty. Gray light came from large windows and a skylight in the ceiling. No movement.

  “The hell?” she said. “Where is everybody?”

  She heard the people behind her getting restless. She pulled back from the glass. She adjusted the rifle on her shoulder. She looked to Park. He nodded, his rifle ready.

  “Okay,” she said. “Everyone be careful. We're going to check it out.”

  She pulled on the door and it opened easily. Slowly, carefully, Angie stepped inside. Park followed. Angie stepped farther inside, hearing the others file in behind her.

  “Hello?” she said.

  Nothing.

  Then she heard it. Sounds from the kitchen, low and insistent. Something like muttering. Or maybe moaning.

  And chewing. It was faint, but Angie had no doubt. She heard chewing.

  “Fuck,” she said, low and sighing.

  Park cocked the rifle next to her. “Too bad they're where the food is.”

  Angie nodded. She turned to the others. She spoke low, not wanting to alert the creatures in the other room. “Everyone be quiet and go slow. If we surprise them, we should be able to overpower them easily.”

  She slung the rifle off her shoulder and crept forward. Park and the others followed. The sounds of chewing grew louder as they approached the kitchen. Teeth tore and jaws gnashed.

  Angie reached the doorway to the kitchen and paused. She looked back to make sure everyone was ready. Park and others nodded. Angie nodded back and rounded the corner.

  A group of people sat on the floor. In the dim light from an overhead bulb, Angie saw a mass of bloody meat between them. They greedily shoved the meat into their mouths, pulled off hunks and chewed.

  “Go!” said Angie, leveling her rifle at the nearest one. Park stepped in and aimed. The others came around the corner, weapons ready.

  The people on the floor looked up, blinking. The one nearest to Angie dropped his meat. His eyes grew wide. He understood what was happening.

  “Wait!” she yelled. Park lowered his rifle, frowning.

  “Don't shoot! Don't shoot!” said one of the people on the floor. He dropped the raw meat he was chewing and stood. “We aren't dead!”

  Angie frowned, looking around. She saw wax paper and masking tape, stained red with blood, wadded on the floor next to the pile of meat. She realized.

  She put her hand to her mouth.

  Park snorted, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder.

  “I know it’s disgusting,” said the man standing. The others also dropped their meat and stood. “But it's all that's left. They took everything else. They smashed the stoves and ovens. Nothing works. It’s all gone.”

  “Who took everything else?” said Angie.

  “The Keepers,” said a young red-headed woman. She stood, wiping blood from her mouth. “I saw it.”

  The people behind Angie grew restless. She heard them shifting position and muttering. They realized there was no food here.

  The young red-headed woman stepped over to Angie. “The Keepers came out of the Bites a few hours ago. They offered food to everyone who would join them. They killed everyone who refused.”

  “Except you,” said Park. Angie heard mutters of distrust from the people behind her.

  The young woman
nodded. “I hid. I saw it happen. About half an hour after that, they brought out wheelbarrows full of food. Cans, boxes, everything. They left. I was too scared to follow.”

  Angie sighed and rubbed her temples. “Any idea where they were going?”

  The young red-headed woman shook her head. “No.”

  “Where's the food?” yelled someone in the crowd behind Angie.

  “Unless you all would like some frozen raw meat,” said Park, “there isn't any.”

  Angry mutters spread through the crowd.

  “Everyone stay calm,” said Angie. “The Keepers have probably gone to where Gregory is. They took all the nonperishables. They probably intend to regroup at the backup station with him. There's no kitchen there, so they couldn't take the meat.”

  “How the fuck does that help us now?” yelled someone else in the crowd. Others muttered their agreement.

  “This is a minor setback,” said Angie, ignoring the angry muttering that followed. “We know where they're going. It's where we were going after this anyway. We're just making one trip now instead of two. If we can just wait a little longer...”

  The crowd grew angrier. They yelled back at Angie, too many voices to pick out any one statement.

  The light flickered in the kitchen. Everyone stopped, staring at the bulb overhead.

  “How long until the power goes off completely?” said Park.

  “Who knows,” said Angie. “I'm sure the only reason it’s stayed on this long is that the stations are automated.”

  She looked back at the crowd. They had calmed, but not much. She cleared her throat. “Everyone listen to me. We have to stick together here. We have to...”

  Loud groans came from outside.

  “Shit,” said Park, turning toward the big room. The people crowding the doorway backed up. Angie pushed past Park and them, into the big room to look outside.

  A large mob of corpses were stumbling toward the doors.

  “All the yelling must have caught their attention,” said Park, readying his rifle.

  “Are there any other doors out of here?” yelled Angie.

  “Yes!” said someone behind her. “There's a service door that leads out from the kitchen!”

  “Everyone move!” yelled Angie, pushing back past the crowd of people. She saw fear on their faces. She wondered how many of them had fought corpses before. She guessed not many. She understood why so many of them focused their aggression on the Keepers. The Keepers were alive. People knew how to handle living people. These things were something new and awful.

  Angie looked side to side for a few seconds. She found a metal door at the back wall of the kitchen. She moved toward it. Park and the crowd followed behind her. The others, the ones who'd been eating the raw meat, joined the larger group.

  Angie reached the door and grabbed the large metal handle. She tugged and the door swung open.

  Outside, in the rain, stood two zebras. They were pacing angrily, huffing and snorting at nothing.

  Then they saw Angie.

  “Hey guys,” she said, backing back into the kitchen. “Any chance on us getting past?”

  The zebras snorted and rushed at the doorway. Angie slammed the door and held it shut as the zebras rammed into it. The force of the impact shook the door and Angie's frame.

  “Yeah,” she said, as Park stepped up to help her. “That's what I thought.”

  Angie and Park pushed against the door as it shuddered a second time. “We gotta lock this thing,” she said, grunting with effort. She heard the closest members of the group rush up behind her. She heard a flurry of activity.

  “Here!” said someone, handing Angie a large, long padlock.

  The door shuddered a third time as Angie scanned the handle, looking for where the padlock could conceivably go. She found a round hole in the handle and slid the padlock through it. She clicked it into place and stepped back. Park stepped back too. The door shuddered and held.

  The groans became louder. Angie ran back to the big room. The corpses were close to the front doors. Angie ran to the doors and locked them. The corpses groaned as they reached the glass and pawed at it.

  Park stepped up next to her, peering out at the corpses. “What do you think? Let them in and beat the hell out of them?”

  Angie considered it, frowning at the corpses and back at the armed group she'd assembled. “I don't know. We would have the corpses in a bottleneck, but I'm afraid of trapping these people in here with them. If something goes wrong, there's no way out.”

  “What have you done?” yelled someone in the crowd. “You've trapped us all in here!”

  Angie ignored them, scanning the room for something she could use. She found a velvet rope threaded through several pedestals standing in the corner. Angie recognized it as the rope the restaurant would set up to organize long lines. She looked up at the large skylight in the center of the room. Gray sky showed behind the rain-pelted glass.

  She looked back at the doors. Corpses were piling up against it, slapping on the glass. The glass was already cracked. She looked at Park, then pointed at a large table in the middle of the room. “Okay, Park, you and some others move that table under the skylight.”

  She ran over to unthread the rope from the pedestals. She heard Park and a few others moving the table.

  When the rope was free she ran back to the table. She looked quickly up and down, gauging the distance from the table to the skylight. Rain pounded down. The corpses outside beat on the doors. Cracks spread along the glass.

  Angie climbed onto the table. Park nodded to himself and did the same.

  “You get where I'm going with this?” said Angie, dropping the rope on the table and unshouldering her rifle.

  “Believe I do,” said Park.

  Angie turned her rifle around so that the butt faced upward. She rammed it against the skylight. The glass cracked. Rain began to seep through. Park rammed it and the cracks spread. Angie grunted and rammed upward a third time, slamming the butt of her rifle into the skylight.

  It shattered, spilling glass to the table and onto the floor below. People jumped out of the way. Rain poured through the opening, slamming down onto the table and soaking Angie and Park in seconds.

  Angie did her best to ignore the rain. She reshouldered her rifle and stooped down to grab the rope.

  “I got this,” said Park, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He hopped up from the table, catching the edge of the skylight. He hung there for a moment, rocking to build momentum, then pulled himself up and outside, onto the roof.

  Angie straightened, holding the rope. Park got down on his knees, leaning back into the room. Rain poured down, pounding onto the table. The corpses clawed at the doors. Cracks spread, growing loud enough to be heard over the rain.

  Park reached down, toward Angie. “Here.”

  Angie handed him one end of the rope. Park stood, pulling the rope up with him. Angie tied a quick loop in the other end. “Everybody, up and out!” she yelled.

  People started rushing toward the table. One by one, they climbed on and grabbed hold of the loop in the rope. Park pulled them up, then tossed the loop end of the rope back onto the table. Several people slipped in the rain soaking the table. Angie kept her eyes on the doors. The cracks spread as the corpses banged on them. She took her rifle from her shoulder and waited, ready if time ran out. Several people gathered behind her, brandishing their shovels and tools.

  After another minute of scrambling and climbing, just a handful were left down in the Bites. A corpse outside slammed its dead fist on the door. The glass gave, a chunk of it falling to the floor. The corpse started pawing at the hole, oblivious to how the edges ripped at its skin.

  “Go go go!” yelled Angie to those gathered behind her. They rushed over and climbed onto the table. One by one, as quickly as they could manage, they grabbed hold of the rope and Park and the others above hoisted them up and out. Angie kept her eyes on the doors.

  Another corpse slammed
into the glass. The cracks spread and the glass shattered inward. The frontmost corpses, tearing themselves to shreds in the process, pushed inside, groaning and gnashing their teeth. Angie cocked her rifle and carefully fired. A dart embedded in the forehead of the closest one, a young man with organs spilling from large wounds in his torso. The man jerked and fell. Angie shouldered the rifle and ran to the table.

  She climbed up as the corpses drew nearer. Rain pounded on her face and shoulders. She sputtered and looked around for the rope. The corpses were close. She could hear them. She found the rope and grabbed hold with both hands. “Pull!” she yelled.

  Park did, wrenching her up as hands closed on her legs. She kicked downward, feeling her foot connect with skull. Something groaned, gurgling in the rain, and let go. Angie was pulled up and onto the roof.

  Angie rolled onto the roof and stood, dropping her end of the rope. Rain pounded down everywhere as she looked around. The group she'd assembled stood huddled together, looking nervous. Below, Angie saw the corpses stumbling around the Bites. Those directly under the skylight looked upward, reaching and grasping at the falling rain. They blinked their dead eyes as water pooled in their rotting skin. Angie looked back to those on the roof. They all looked back expectantly. Park looked like he wondered what she had in mind next.

  “Okay,” she started. “Everyone just give me a second and...”

  A woman at the back screamed as two dark shapes swooped down from the gray sky. Screeching sounds echoed around through the rain.

  “The fuck?” yelled Park. People stumbled around in panic. One fell, screaming, from the roof.

  Angie ran, pushing her way through the crowd, to the source of the panic. A young woman lay bloody and dead. Rain pattered on her bloody skin, streaking red across the roof.

  “What the hell happened?” Angie yelled.

  Screeching came from above. Angie looked up and saw the two dark shapes circling, preparing to dive again. She squinted into the rain. Two hawks, now freed from their exhibit, sped toward her and the others.

  “Get out of the way!” yelled Angie, ducking aside and pulling those closest with her. The hawks dove into the crowd, screeching and clawing. People stumbled to each side, desperate to get away. Several fell. Angie heard them scream and thump onto the pavement below. She heard bones snapping and people screaming.