Ashton Memorial

by Robert R. Best

  She ran until the roof above her ended and she stumbled out into the main room. A huge glass wall was to her right, the primate exhibit behind it. She didn't have time to look, but she knew the room was full of faux-trees and ledges, with ropes and sticks and various things for the apes to play on. Dalton had loved this exhibit once.

  Dalton screamed above her. Angie whirled around and looked up. Dalton was on the overlook that hung out over the viewing area. His back was to a small wall that kept guests from falling. He was kicking at corpses that groaned and grabbed at him.

  “Dalton!” Angie yelled. A flash of light blinded her for a moment, then was gone. Angie blinked in confusion, straining to see Dalton. A light hung in the ceiling just above him, glaring in Angie's eyes as he moved.

  He didn't hear her, straining and kicking at the corpses. The corpses seemed to be farther back than before.

  “Dalton!” Angie yelled again, squinting through the glare. It wasn't as bright as the first flash, but she desperately wished she could get a better view.

  He spun around and looked down. “Mom! I'm stuck!”

  Angie, terrified she was being ridiculous, terrified she was making a huge mistake, held her arms out and up. “Hurry, baby! Jump!”

  Dalton looked back at the corpses drawing closer behind him, then back down at her. “What?”

  “I'm sorry honey,” said Angie. She squinted in the glare of the light above Dalton. His silhouette was fuzzy against it. “There's no other way,” she said. “Jump!”

  Dalton looked back, then down at her. He looked scared. It broke Angie's heart. She almost stopped, almost reconsidered.

  Then the corpses drew up right behind him.

  “Hurry!” she yelled. “Jump!”

  Dalton took a quick glance back over his shoulder. The corpses leaned in to bite. Dalton screamed, climbed over the wall, and jumped.

  For a panicked second, Angie stared into the light, trying to position herself to catch her falling son. It seemed like forever.

  Then he was in her arms and she was straining to slow him down. Her back ached and she almost fell forward, but he settled and she straightened.

  For a moment they stood clutching each other. Dalton clung to her like a baby. He was heavy but Angie couldn't bring herself to put him down.

  “You okay?” she said.

  “I think so.”

  “Okay, we gotta...” then a muffled “whump” came from Angie's left. It startled her so much she stumbled to the right, almost dropping Dalton. He jumped from her arms and landed awkwardly, bent over and looking around.

  Angie backed away from the source of the sound, first only seeing a dark shape against the glass. Then her panicked mind settled and the shape resolved into a chimpanzee. It glared at her through the glass and pounded a hairy fist against the barrier. It screeched at her. The sound was muffled by the thick glass but still very audible. Angie remembered how a young Dalton would bang on the glass and the chimpanzees wouldn't be able to hear it. She wondered how loud the chimpanzee must be screeching for the sound to come through.

  “Crap,” said Dalton. He ran back over to her.

  “It’s okay,” said Angie, forcing herself to calm down but not taking her eyes off the chimpanzee. “The glass is too thick.”

  A blur of movement caught Angie's eye. A second chimpanzee was running across the exhibit, toward them. It frothed and banged its arms angrily on the ground. It reached the glass and pounded at it, screeching. It seemed to aggravate the first chimpanzee further. They both screeched and pounded. Frustrated, the second chimpanzee ran over to a large tire swing hanging from one of the faux-trees. It grabbed the tire and, screeching in rage, ripped the tire from the rope that held it. The thick rope frayed and snapped away from the tire as the chimpanzee ran back to the glass, carrying the tire with it. Screeching in anger, it flung the huge tire at the glass.

  Dalton jumped back and Angie flinched as the tire slammed into the glass. The noise reverberated around the exhibit. The chimpanzees bellowed in rage and pounded on the glass. Moans came from both ends of the hallway.

  “Crap,” said Dalton.

  “It's the noise,” said Angie. “It's attracting them.”

  “Think we can get the monkeys to stop?”

  “Doubtful,” said Angie, picking up the arrow from where she had dropped it. “Just stay close to me.”

  Dalton did as corpses emerged from both ends of the hall. They staggered toward Angie and Dalton, working their dead jaws and groaning.

  One corpse, a middle-aged man in a torn suit with a deep gouge running down one cheek, drew close and reached for them. Angie grunted and slammed the point of the arrow into the corpse's face. The corpse groaned and fell back.

  “Duck!” she yelled to Dalton as she whipped around, swinging the arrow around behind her. The arrow slammed across the heads of the corpses approaching from behind, knocking them back.

  The chimpanzees behind the glass were furious. The two that had already appeared were pounding on the glass, the sound echoing around them. A third chimpanzee appeared, slamming its massive arms into its chest and shrieking. It tore a branch from a tree and ran to the glass. It whacked the branch against the glass, pounding again and again until the branch broke. The first two chimpanzees' hands grew bloody as they pounded. One started biting at the glass, so hard its teeth chipped.

  “Mom,” said Dalton, looking at them.

  “They can't get through,” said Angie, hoping it was true. Chimpanzees were strong and she'd never seen any this enraged. But the glass was thick. She hoped it was thick enough. “The only way they could get out is through that door with the red light.” She nodded toward the door, set far back behind the chimpanzees, as she swung at a corpse that had come too close.

  Dalton screamed and Angie whirled to look. A corpse, a young woman with large chunks of skin peeled from her arms, had grabbed hold of his neck. She hissed and pulled him toward her. Angie screamed and slammed the arrow into the woman's face. The woman fell back and Angie slammed the wood downward onto her skull. The woman jerked and fell, still.

  The chimpanzees howled and pounded. The corpses groaned all around Angie and Dalton. Angie bellowed back at them, feeling her sanity slipping. She swung and slammed the arrow back and forth, round and round. She lost track of how many corpses there were. She lost track of how many she'd hit. She was conscious of two things, the corpses she needed to put down and the need to avoid hitting Dalton. She pounded and pounded, one corpse after another falling as she did.

  Finally, there was only one left still moving. It was an older man with no nose and dirt clumped against his face. A worm crawled out of the hole where his nose would be and inched along his face. He growled and came at Angie. Angie swung the arrow around and downward, snapping the man's neck. The man stumbled to one side, head bobbing limply. Angie brought the arrow up and slammed downward, knocking the man's head into his shoulder. The head caved in and thick black muck spilled out of his ears. He fell, still.

  Angie panted. She held Dalton close to her side.

  She heard pounding behind her and turned to face to glass. A chimpanzee was inches from her, pounding on the glass with bloody hands. It snarled and hissed and bit.

  Angie flipped it off, panting. “Eat it, asshole.”

  Then she patted Dalton on the head. Dalton said nothing, looking around at the still corpses and at the furious chimpanzees.

  “Okay, honey,” she said. “Let's go. The exit's this way.”

  Thirteen

  “Guess we're sleeping here,” said Maylee, looking around. She stood in a narrow alcove of concrete and plaster. The ceiling was low and claustrophobic. She felt a little trapped, but reminded herself they'd had to climb a ladder to get here. And from what she had seen, fresh corpses could navigate stairs if given time, but she'd never seen any manage a ladder. It bothered her that she was becoming an expert on what walking corpses could and couldn't do.

  “We'll swing it,” said Par
k, leaning against a wall of the alcove. “It's cold and the floor is nice and hard. And don't forget fucking damp. What's not to love?”

  Maylee smirked and looked behind her. Ella was standing outside of the alcove, looking down with her back to Maylee. Climbing up here had been Ella's idea. She knew of all sorts of hidden areas that the zookeepers used for storage and shortcuts. This alcove, set high up along one of the fake-rock walls, was one of them. The ladder was almost impossible to see from the regular zoo walkways, but Ella had gone straight to it.

  Maylee walked out to where Ella stood. The rain was a light, cold mist. It stung her face but Maylee was glad to be out of the dim alcove.

  Ella was looking down at a bear exhibit. A bear paced angrily next to a large pool of water, one the bears would normally play and swim in. A beach ball bobbed in the water. A dead bear, head smashed and bloody, lay next to the pool.

  “I saw him do that,” said Ella.

  “What?” said Maylee.

  “Geoff,” said Ella. “I mean, that bear. I saw him pounding his head against the wall. I guess he did it too many times.”

  Maylee nodded, not knowing what else to do. She stared down at the bear with Ella for a moment, then walked slowly back into the alcove. Park was still leaning against the wall, looking down. He saw Maylee approach and gave her a quick nod. Maylee nodded back. She sat cross-legged on the cold floor and set her bat next to her.

  Ella slowly walked inside and sat next to Maylee. She sighed. “I can't believe we're still not there.”

  “It's a big zoo,” said Maylee. “Plus, dead people are everywhere.”

  Ella frowned. “Plus you've got me for a guide.” She stared silently at the floor for a moment. “People think I'm stupid. Weird and stupid.”

  “Hey!” said Maylee, kicking Ella's foot then resuming a cross-legged position. “I don't think that.”

  Park, who'd been watching this whole time, came over and sat next to Ella. “Listen, Ella,” he said. “Everything's gonna be okay.” He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. She pulled away.

  “Not now,” she said.

  Park stared at her for a second, then stood angrily. “When, goddammit, Ella? When?”

  “I don't know,” said Ella, standing and pacing.

  “Well give me a fucking time frame, Ella. I'm your fucking father and I haven't seen you for years!”

  Ella whirled on him, a fury in her eyes Maylee hadn't seen from her before. “Big damn whup, Dad! I'm so sorry your stupid little plan isn't working out for you. You think you can just show up after years and be some sort of stupid scroungy hero? Where were you when Mom died? Where were you when Stepdad stole Lori? Where were you when dead people started eating everything? Where were you ever?”

  Park stared at Ella for several seconds. Maylee tried to read his face. He looked angry, embarrassed, sad, and several other things all at once. Maylee wished she had sat somewhere farther away.

  Park sniffed and stepped closer to Ella. “You guys. Your mother, your sister, you. You guys left me.”

  Ella stared back, then shook her head. “Shit, Dad. I'm fifteen years old and I know how childish that sounds.”

  She spun and stomped out of the alcove. Park watched her go, then looked down at Maylee. Maylee looked back, no earthly idea what to say.

  “The fuck you looking at?” said Park.

  Maylee shrugged, stood and walked away.

  * * *

  Angie grabbed another handful of paper towels from the dispenser. She walked to the center of the bathroom and knelt, spreading the towels out as neatly as she could in the rapidly-fading light. Dalton stood a few feet away, looking around the bathroom. The public restroom at a zoo was not Angie's first choice for sleeping, but it had only one door and one window. The window was high up the wall and narrow, making it unlikely that anyone, or anything, could climb through. And the door was locked thanks to a plunger Angie found and shoved through the vertical handle.

  “We should get there tomorrow, sweetheart,” said Angie. She spread the paper towels out until they formed a thin layer against the floor of the bathroom. It would have to do. “I'm so sorry this is taking so long.”

  Dalton came over and sat on the makeshift bed Angie made. Angie sat next to him. Dalton stared up at the frosted window high on the wall. “Do you think Maylee's okay?” he said.

  “I'm sure she is,” said Angie. She desperately hoped it was true. She reminded herself that Maylee had Park with her. And for all of Park's issues, he could handle himself. Then she reminded herself that Maylee had gotten Dalton through that first night. The first night of the end of the world, Maylee had kept herself and Dalton safe. It made Angie proud, but it was too scary to think about for very long. Maylee was only fourteen.

  Shit, Angie realized. No she's not.

  “Shit,” Angie said aloud into the dark.

  “What?” said Dalton.

  “I forgot your sister's birthday was today. I completely forgot.”

  “It's okay.”

  Angie chuckled. “Not so sure about that, buddy. I strongly suspect I may be a terrible mother.”

  “There's a lot going on right now,” said Dalton.

  “You got that right,” said Angie, putting an arm around him and pulling him closer. “Too much. Way too much.”

  She sat silently in the dark. Dalton put his head on her shoulder and was snoring in less than a minute. Angie knew how exhausted he must be.

  “I'm so tired of running, Dalton,” she said, quietly.

  “Mmmm?” said Dalton, half asleep.

  “Nothing, sweetie. It's okay.” She leaned over to kiss his forehead. He fell fully asleep on her shoulder. Angie sighed into the dark.

  “So sick of running,” she whispered, careful not to wake him. “I need to get you guys safe. Get you guys a home again. I'll build one if I have to.”

  * * *

  Park stared at the ceiling of the alcove. The cold concrete hurt his back, but he didn't give a fuck right now. The girls were outside the alcove, looking down at bears or some shit. He was glad for it. He couldn't stand to have Ella looking at him right now. He felt exhausted and embarrassed.

  He stared at the ceiling, trying not to picture the look Ella gave him just before she stormed out.

  It is years ago and Park is sitting in his dirty old recliner. Jennifer, all pulled-back hair and seriousness, stands before him. Ella and Lori, small and confused, stand to either side of her.

  “You're serious,” says Park, not bothering to get up. He hopes the gesture is defiant. He suspects he looks pathetic. He is not sure he cares.

  “Of course I'm serious, Parker,” says Jennifer. “I told you things aren't working. I told you you need to find work. I told you you need to be more involved. You won't listen. No, it's worse. You do listen. You just don't care.”

  Park isn't sure she's wrong. He ignores that part. “Work? I've got my garage.”

  “Your garage, Parker? What garage? You fix maybe one car a month for one of your stupid friends. They give you fifty bucks if you’re lucky. We can't live on that. Even with my job, the girls can't live on that.”

  “Fine,” says Park. “So I haven't actually rented out a building yet. But I still have a business. Things are slow right now.”

  “Things are as slow as you want them to be. You're lazy, Parker. You're lazy and you don't care.”

  Park stares at her, at the girls. He's half drunk from a morning full of beer. He wishes it made him feel better. “You can't talk to me that way,” he says, hoping he sounds strong.

  “I am,” says Jennifer. “I did. And now I'm going and I'm taking the girls with me.”

  “Fuck you,” says Park. He pushes himself farther back in his recliner, making a big show of not giving a shit.

  “Hell of a comeback, Parker,” says Jennifer. She opens the door and steps toward it. She motions for Lori and Ella to follow.

  Just before they go, Lori and Ella look at him. They are confused, but Par
k can see the core emotion on their face.

  They are disappointed. In life. In their father.

  They look at him like he is a failure.

  Then they are gone.

  Park shook the memories off and forced himself to shut his eyes. Before he fell asleep, he saw the image of Ella staring at him a few minutes ago. Her eyes had the same disappointed look.

  Then he fell asleep.

  * * *

  Lori strained her legs against the ropes holding her to the chair. They were tight and they dug into her skin. She didn't care. She wanted to be free. She dug at the ropes with her hands, but they were too tight to get anywhere.

  Gregory sat with his back to her at the desk in the corner of the room. The one monitor showed one camera view, then another, as Gregory clicked a switch on the desk. The cameras showed various images of guests fighting, guests running from corpses, and sometimes guests being eaten by corpses. Lori looked away when those images went by.

  But mostly she glared at Gregory's back, hoping she could burn holes into him with her eyes.

  He clicked a different switch on the desk and leaned into the microphone a few inches from his mouth. “Attention guests of Ashton Memorial Zoo.”

  “Hope you're enjoying your stay!” yelled Lori, hoping she was loud enough for the microphone to pick up.

  Gregory clicked the switch off and turned to look at her. She glared defiantly back at him.

  “Please Lori,” said Gregory, shaking his head. “Don't make me gag you again.”

  Lori flipped him off but stayed silent, remembering the sweaty taste of the rag across her mouth.

  Gregory ignored her gesture and turned back to the microphone. He flipped the switch to activate it. “Sorry about that folks,” he said in his best cheery customer-greeting voice. Lori had heard it for years. Before, she was mildly irritated by it. Now it made her want to vomit.