Ashton Memorial

by Robert R. Best

  “This is Gregory, the owner of our wonderful zoo. I want to personally thank you for your continued patience. Remember that the fine employees of Ashton Memorial Zoo are working around the clock for your safety during this time of crisis. We trust that this crisis is temporary and that authorities are restoring order outside as we speak.”

  He cleared his throat and continued. “It has also come to our attention that, regrettably, some of the ... things outside may have found their way into the zoo. Please do not approach them. Instead, report them to the nearest zookeeper and we will deal with the problem. Please be assured that only a few of the creatures have found their way inside, and we will deal with them all swiftly and surely. Good night.”

  He clicked the microphone off and turned back to Lori. She tried to kill him with her eyes. It didn't work.

  “Don't look at me like you hate me, Lori,” he said.

  “But I do hate you,” said Lori. “And maybe you've forgotten since a lot's happened, but a day or so ago you tied me to a chair, so it's not like I can look much of anywhere else.”

  He scratched at his neatly-trimmed beard and stared at the floor for a second. Then he looked back at Lori. “I can't untie you yet, Lori.”

  “I bet you could if you tried,” said Lori, straining against the ropes. “I believe in you, Dad.”

  He shook his head, quiet for the moment. Lori was very conscious of the cell phone in her hip pocket. She wished Gregory would leave the room so she could text Ella. She wished she could call Ella, but she couldn't risk Gregory overhearing. She had no idea how far he went when he left the room.

  He smiled, sadly. “Now, don't be silly like your sister, Lori. You know what I mean.”

  “I know what you did.”

  Something approaching anger flashed across Gregory's face. His forehead turned red, then it was gone as he visibly pushed his reaction down. “I had to, Lori. You think I wanted to? You think I wanted to shoot my wife? Your mother?”

  Lori stared at him as he talked. He looked sad. Most people would believe honestly sad. But Lori had watched his face for years. She knew how he could be, when he wanted to impress guests or investors. She couldn't be sure he wasn't acting.

  He sighed and pushed his chair away from her. “Well, let's try to get some sleep.”

  Good idea, thought Lori. Why don't you go outside to do that.

  He smiled at her, kindly. Most people would believe honestly kindly. “I'll be in the corner if you need me.”'

  Shit.

  * * *

  Lee leaned against the doorway to the kitchen in the Bites. He held a clipboard in his hand. A handwritten chart was attached to the clipboard. Another Keeper, a young man with a bald head and goatee, stood inside the kitchen, looking around.

  Lee checked the clipboard. “Loaves of bread?”

  “Um,” said the young man, turning to stare at the back of the kitchen. “Twenty-three.”

  Lee nodded and clicked the pen he held in his other hand. He marked a hand-drawn box on the chart. “The guests will have to eat a lot of bread in the next few days. The bread will go bad fast.”

  The young man rubbed the back of his bald head. “How long do you think we'll be trapped in here, Lee?”

  Lee shrugged, not looking up from the clipboard. “Not sure. That's why we have to ration food. Why we have to keep order. We're the Keepers.”

  The young man chuckled softly.

  Lee looked up from the clipboard to stare at the young man. “What's so funny?”

  The young man looked out at the other Keepers scattered around the Bites, then back at Lee. “Well, we were Keepers, Lee. I don't think we work here anymore. It's not like we're getting paid.”

  Lee placed the clipboard under his armpit and crossed his arms. “What in the hell difference does that make?”

  All the other Keepers fell quiet. The bald man looked around for support, then back to Lee. He rubbed the back of his head.

  Lee stared at him for a second longer, then pulled the clipboard from his armpit. He looked back down at it. “Boxes of corn chips?”

  The bald man paused, silent for a moment. “Hey, Lee...”

  Lee cleared his throat. “Boxes of corn chips?”

  The bald man stared at Lee, then turned to look around the kitchen. “Um, fifteen. One opened.”

  “How many bags in the open one?” said Lee.

  The bald man counted. “Um, let's see. Ten.”

  Lee frowned at the chart. “There's supposed to be eleven.”

  The man turned red, looking embarrassed. The other Keepers chuckled. The man coughed. “Well...”

  “Why aren't there eleven?” said Lee, looking up from the chart.

  “I took an extra one at lunch.”

  Lee lowered the clipboard. “You what?”

  The other Keepers chuckled louder. The man turned redder, scratching his goatee and looking around. “I didn't see what the big deal was. I was hungry and we have plenty.”

  Lee said nothing. He stared at the man.

  The man chuckled, sounding more nervous than amused. “Look, Lee, it's no big deal. I just won't have chips tomorrow. Whateve...”

  Lee whipped the clipboard up and slammed the edge into the man's throat.

  The other Keepers gasped. The bald man stumbled back, his eyes bulging as he clutched his throat. He choked and coughed. “Lee,” he wheezed. “What the fuck, dude?”

  Lee stepped forward and slammed the edge of the board into the man's neck again. Harder. The man stumbled and fell over, rolling onto his back. He wheezed and coughed and flecks of blood flew from his mouth.

  Lee knelt to straddle the man. He dropped his pen and took the clipboard with both hands. He slammed the board down on the man's throat a third time. The man bucked under him. Blood shot from his mouth, spattering across the clipboard and chart. He wheezed and coughed, his breathing thin and gurgling. The other Keepers said and did nothing.

  Lee slammed the board down again and again, until the man's throat collapsed and the board was hitting the floor beneath. Lee sat back, panting at the man. Blood pooled from his mouth and he choked and gurgled. His neck was caved in, bruised and bloody. The man clutched feebly at the floor. His eyes glazed over as he stared up at Lee.

  Lee stared back, then stood. Dropping the clipboard, he strode over to the closest counter and grabbed a tranquilizer rifle placed there. He walked back to stand over the man. The man gurgled up at him, spit and blood frothing on his lips.

  Saying nothing, Lee leveled the rifle at the man's forehead and fired. The dart flew from the rifle and thudded into the man's forehead. The man jerked and was still. Blood seeped around the point of the dart, running down onto the floor.

  Lee lowered the rifle and looked at the other Keepers. They stared back at him, silent.

  “We're Keepers, people. And one of the things we keep are the fucking rules!” He shook with fury as he yelled the last part. He forced himself to calm down, looking to each Keeper in turn.

  They all nodded at him, silent.

  * * *

  Maylee slowly walked out of the alcove. Ella was staring, arms crossed, down at the bears. The light mist in the air coated Maylee's face and she blinked. It was almost completely dark outside. The only light came from a dim bulb inside the alcove. Maylee wondered how much longer the power would hold out.

  Ella said nothing as Maylee approached. She stared down at the bears as though no one was there. Maylee walked up next to her and looked down. The live bear huffed and snorted as it paced the exhibit. Despite how high they were, Maylee was glad the bear hadn't noticed them. She looked down at the wall, wondering if anything could climb it. Then she noticed a short ladder placed to her right, running from their level up to something above the alcove.

  “What's up there?” she said, feeling awkward as she broke the silence.

  Ella looked, then resumed staring at the bears. “There's a big hill on the other side of this wall.” Her voice was quiet and flat.
“The ladder goes to the top. Zookeepers use it as a shortcut sometimes.”

  Maylee nodded and fell silent.

  Ella turned and looked at Maylee. She smiled. “Hey, cheer up, it's Wednesday.”

  Maylee blinked. “Huh?”

  Ella shrugged. “I dunno. That's just something I say when Lori's upset. I say whatever day of the week it is, then I say cheer up because of it.”

  “Does it work?”

  “Nope,” said Ella, shaking her head.

  Maylee chuckled. Then she gasped. “Wait, did you say Wednesday?”

  Ella frowned. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Shit,” said Maylee, shaking her head. “Today was my birthday. I completely forgot.”

  Ella gasped and smiled. “Cool! How old are you now?”

  “Fifteen,” said Maylee, feeling weird saying it. She knew the significance of the date to her mother. It hung over her like a threat for years.

  Ella clapped her hands. “Double cool. Like me! You know what you need?”

  “What?”

  “A party!” said Ella, then she pushed past Maylee to hurry into the alcove. “Wait here!”

  Maylee turned to watch as Ella looked hurriedly around the alcove. She found something and rushed over to pick it up. She knelt and Maylee saw she held a small piece of white rock.

  “Here,” said Ella, waving for her to come over. “Sit, sit.”

  Maylee walked over and sat on the ground across from Ella. Ella leaned forward and scraped the rock across the concrete, leaving a jagged white line.

  She drew a large, misshapen circle on the ground, then smiled up at Maylee. “This is your cake.” Then she leaned forward and drew a rectangle next to it. “And this is the ice cream.”

  Maylee chuckled. “You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble.”

  “Don't worry about it,” said Ella, smiling. “Nothing but the best for your party.” She sat back and placed the rock on the ground. She made a big show of clearing her throat. Then she started singing.

  “Happy birthday to you,” she sang.

  “I belong in a zoo?” said Maylee, raising her hands to indicate their surroundings.

  Ella stopped singing and laughed. “You don't look like a monkey, though.”

  Maylee nodded. “At this point, though, I bet I smell like one.”

  They both laughed.

  “Happy birthday, Maylee,” said Ella.

  “Thank you,” said Maylee.

  Fourteen

  Angie and Dalton walked slowly, keeping a lookout for corpses. Angie felt ridiculous, still clutching the bright yellow hunk of wood that was once an arrow. But she needed a weapon. She couldn't be caught off guard again. The rain picked up around them. It was cold, but Angie scarcely noticed any more. She felt like the wet, cold misery was becoming a part of her. Dalton shuddered next to her. She had to get him shelter and warmth. Something better than storage sheds and public restrooms.

  They rounded a corner and saw a small building across a large walkway. Communications Office: Employees Only, read a sign next to it.

  “There it is!” yelled Dalton, pointing.

  Angie sighed, relief flooding her. “Yep, buddy. There it is.”

  “Come on!” said Dalton, running forward.

  “Wait!” said Angie. “We need to be careful.”

  Then Dalton screamed as a corpse stumbled from behind a nearby tree and closed its arms around him. It was a thin woman with most of her clothes dried and rotted away. She gripped Dalton with thin, leathery arms and hissed through her taut, papery throat. The tendons in her neck worked as she bent in to bite.

  “Dalton!” yelled Angie, running forward with the arrow. Dalton screamed, trying to pull away.

  “Duck!” yelled Angie when she reached him. Dalton did the best he could and Angie whipped the wood over his head, missing him by inches, and slammed into the woman's face. The woman let go and staggered back, hissing and groaning as yellow teeth fell from her mouth.

  “Get your own kid, bitch,” said Angie, stepping closer to the woman and slamming the point of the arrow into her eye. The wood was splintered and jagged, and one thin splinter was long and sturdy enough to bury itself deep in the woman's skull. The woman let out a long, low moan, then slumped to the ground in front of Angie.

  “That's pretty satisfying,” said Angie. “I see why your sister likes beating these things so much.”

  “You think Maylee's inside?” said Dalton, looking warily down at the corpse, but his voice full of excitement.

  “God I hope so,” said Angie. “Let's go see.”

  They slowly walked to the building, looking side to side as they went. Angie could hear, or imagined she could hear, faint and far off groaning, but she couldn't be sure. No corpses emerged to attack and they made their way to the building in relative peace.

  “Gross,” said Dalton, stopping on the metallic stairs leading up to the office. He looked up and Angie followed his gaze.

  A dead zookeeper, tranquilizer dart embedded in his forehead, was hanging by the neck from a tree in front of the door. He'd clearly been dead for days and the rain had sped up his rotting. His skin was slimy and gray and the smell made Angie back up a step.

  “Yeah,” said Angie, pulling her shirt up to her nose. “Just cover your nose and we'll get inside. Okay, baby?”

  Dalton nodded and walked up the stairs. Angie followed, doing her best to ignore the corpse and the slow creaking noise the branch made as it rocked back and forth in the rain.

  Dalton reached the door first but looked too scared to knock. Angie guessed what he was thinking. They'd taken days to get here. Anything could have happened in that time. Anything could be behind that door. The rotting body hanging from the tree did little to make Angie feel better.

  Angie shook the feeling off and, reaching out over Dalton's head, knocked on the door.

  Angie heard movement inside and her back tensed. Then she heard voices and she felt slightly better. At least it wasn't corpses moving in there. But it bothered her that she didn't recognize the voices. It sounded like a man and woman. Young, too.

  The door opened and a young man with round glasses peered out. He eyed Angie warily. “Who are you?”

  Angie wanted to push the man aside. Get Dalton inside and warm. She forced herself to stay civil. “I'm Angie Land and this is my son, Dalton. Is there anyone else here? A fourteen-, fifteen-year-old girl and a man about my age? They would be...”

  “We don't have any food!” yelled a woman's voice from behind the young man. Then the woman walked into view. Her arms were crossed and she looked warily past the young man at Angie. Angie noticed both of them were wearing zookeeper uniforms. She tensed, remembering the Zoo Bites, but she forced herself not to show it.

  “Just shut the door, Caleb,” said the young woman.

  “Just let me deal with it, Shelley,” said the young man, apparently named Caleb. “She's right though, lady, we don't have any food.”

  “You can't trust these people!” said Shelley. “They're all crazy. Just shut the door!”

  Angie cleared her throat, forcing herself to smile. “Look, we were told to come here. Some girl named Ella?”

  “Ella?” said Caleb, opening the door wider and leaning out. “Where is she? What have you people done with Ella?”

  Angie leaned back, a little surprised by Caleb's intensity. The branch behind her creaked as the body swung back and forth. “What?” she said. “We don't have her. She told us...”

  Caleb looked her up and down. There was a desperate craziness in his eyes Angie didn't like. “Look, lady. I'm sorry we don't have food. I'm sorry we locked you all in here.”

  “Just shut the door Caleb!” yelled Shelley.

  Caleb ignored her. “I'm sorry for all of that. Just give us Ella back, please.”

  The branch behind her creaked as Angie stared at Caleb and Shelley. “Look, I told you. We don't have her. And no one locked us in anywhere. We got here two nights ago. Ella helped us get
inside.”

  Shelly's eyes grew wide and she pointed at Angie. “They're the ones that let those things inside! Shut the door!”

  Caleb frowned at Angie, his eyes narrowing behind the round glasses. “Is that true?”

  “Screw this,” said Angie. She grabbed the door and shoved it inward, pushing Caleb back in the process. She and Dalton walked inside as Caleb and Shelley backed away like frightened animals. The room stunk of sweat and desperation.

  “Get out!” yelled Shelley, pointing at the door.

  “What's your problem, chickie?” said Angie, feeling very sick of this shit.

  Caleb let out a long sigh and adjusted his glasses on his face. “Look, let's all just calm down for a moment.”

  Shelley ignored him and stepped toward Angie. “My problem? All you guest fuckers are crazy. That's my problem. The whole world’s gone crazy. There's one too. Oh, and corpses are eating people! Let's not forget that one. The only person I can trust is Caleb and he won't shut the fucking door!”

  Shelley pushed past Angie and walked to the door. She held it open wide and gestured out of it. “Now leave, please!”

  A groaning corpse stumbled into the doorway and grabbed Shelley. She screamed. The corpse, a bloated old man with thick slimy strips of skin hanging from his head, moved in to bite. The slimy strips of his flesh brushed across Shelly's face and she shrieked, sounding like she was losing her mind.

  “Shelley!” yelled Caleb, moving forward to help.

  “Shit,” said Angie, putting Dalton behind her and rushing forward. She arrived first and grabbed the corpse by the forehead. She pushed back, recoiling inside at the feel of the corpse's slimy skin.

  Caleb reached Shelley and grabbed her arms. He pulled her toward him, out of the corpse's grip. The bloated man gurgled and bit at Angie's forearm.

  “Someone wanna give me a hand with this?” yelled Angie, pushing against the corpse as he bit and grabbed at her.