Ashton Memorial

by Robert R. Best

  Angie unslung her rifle from her shoulder. “Back off, Lee. We don't have time.”

  “It's the end of the world, bitch,” said Lee, pointing the rifle at her. “All we have now is time.”

  Angie whipped her rifle up and they both fired. Both rifles clicked, empty.

  “Fuck,” said Lee, tossing the rifle aside and rushing at her.

  Angie brought her rifle up longways, attempting to block. Lee wrapped his arms around her waist and drove her down into the dirt. She kicked and punched at him. He slapped her across the face.

  “Fucking bitch,” he grunted, leaning in close and closing his hands around her throat. “Fucking chaos-bringing bitch.” He squeezed and Angie kicked at the dirt.

  Angie heard noise to her right. She looked and saw a lion racing at them from the side. It roared and snarled. Lee didn’t see it.

  Lee leaned in closer, whispering into her ear. “Die, you lousy bitch! Just die already!” he said. Angie wheezed and coughed.

  She brought her knee up under Lee and pushed him upward. The lion drew close and roared. Lee let go, noticing the lion and screaming. The lion leapt over Angie, catching Lee in its mouth and carrying him off of her.

  Angie clambered to her feet. Lee screamed and the lion ripped hunks of him free. It clawed and roared. Angie knew she had seconds before it turned on her. She rubbed her throat and ran.

  * * *

  Park climbed over the last fence and reached the top of the hill. He looked around, squinting in the pounding rain. Then he saw it, and the sight ripped into his chest. Lori lay crumpled and limp in the rain. He ran, almost tripping over the many rocks and bushes, to where she lay.

  He knelt by her, whispering to himself. “No no no come on fuck no.” He looked down at her, cursing himself for having missed the years between.

  She coughed, a fine mist of blood spraying into the rain. She looked up at him. “Dad?”

  “Lori,” he said, lifting her shoulders and cradling her. “Oh god Lori I'm so sorry.”

  “Don't be sorry, Dad,” she said, coughing. Her voice was weak and her eyes unfocused. “It's okay.”

  “No, Lori, no it's not. You have to know how sorry I am.”

  “I do, Dad, I do. And it's okay. I ...”

  Then she was gone.

  She slumped, her eyes empty. Park stared at her for a moment, not believing. He bit his lip and clutched her tightly.

  “I'm so sorry,” he whispered, his throat hoarse, knowing she was gone.

  He sat there quietly. The darts had stopped flying. Corpses groaned and people screamed. Animals growled. Park barely heard it.

  Then he heard Gregory.

  “Everyone,” he was saying, standing atop one of the highest ledges and waving his arms. Park saw a mass of corpses below Gregory, reaching and groaning. “Please be calm. We at Ashton Memorial will restore order.” He still held the gun that shot Lori. Several corpses lay near him, bullet holes in their heads. Park knew it was the same gun that had also killed Jennifer.

  Park slowly lowered Lori's body and stood. He stomped toward Gregory. He slipped his rifle off his shoulder. He considered firing it, then shook his head. He noticed a ladder leading up the wall on one side of the ledge. He opened the chamber and pulled out a dart. He tossed the rifle aside.

  Gregory noticed Park approaching up the side of the ledge. “Stay back!” he said, pointing the gun at Park.

  “Better use it quick, son,” said Park, climbing onto the ledge.

  Gregory fired. The gun clicked, empty. Gregory dropped the gun and raised his hands. “Listen, things have gotten out of hand here.”

  Park said nothing. He stepped up to Gregory and grabbed him by the back of the head. He shoved the tip of the dart into his throat. Gregory jerked in shock. Blood shot out across Park's hand. Park dragged the dart across Gregory's throat, ripping it open. Gregory gasped and flailed, clutching at his throat. Blood squirted past his fingers, thick and dark.

  Park dropped the dart and let go of Gregory's head. He put his bloody palm on Gregory's forehead and pushed him backward. Gregory fell into the mob of corpses below. The corpses groaned and bit into him. Gregory tried to scream but only managed a wet gurgle as the corpses pulled him apart. They dug their fingers into the hole Park had made in Gregory’s neck. They dug their hands into his torso. He bucked and wheezed as they pulled out organs and shoved them into their mouths. The corpses chewed and moaned.

  Park watched for a second, rain pounding down around him. Then he turned and walked back toward Lori's body.

  * * *

  Angie reached the top of the hill. She looked around in the rain. Screams and groans came from all around. Animals growled and shrieked.

  “Maylee! Dalton!” she yelled.

  “Mom!” came Maylee's voice.

  Angie looked and saw Maylee and Dalton running toward her. Angie ran to meet them. She clutched them both as tightly as she could.

  “I'm sorry, Mom!” said Maylee. “We found out they were moving Lori and we couldn't reach you! I wanted to save her.”

  “Are you both okay?” said Angie, looking them both over.

  They nodded back at her.

  Angie sighed, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. Guilt because she knew Park was somewhere with Lori. And Lori was most likely...

  “You did good, Maylee,” Angie said. Maylee looked shocked, then nodded. “We gotta get out of here.”

  Angie turned and pulled them through the rain, away from the chaos and the screaming. A corpse stumbled out in front of her. It was a small-framed man with tiny round glasses and exposed bloody ribs. He growled and hissed.

  “I got this, Mom,” said Maylee. She ran up and whacked the corpse across the skull. The corpse fell and Maylee slammed down again, breaking the corpse's head open. Maylee looked back at Angie and smiled through the rain. “See. A lot can be whacked in the head.”

  Angie shook her head. “Fine, but you both have to be more careful.”

  Then Dalton was screaming. Angie turned in time to see a large man, with a torn business suit and a large blood-stain across his torso, grab Dalton's arm. He pulled Dalton's arm to his mouth and bit down. Dalton screamed and blood shot out across the man's face and suit.

  “No!” shrieked Angie, turning cold as Dalton jerked away from the man, his torn arm bleeding into the rain.

  “Dalton!” yelled Maylee, running at the man. The man was backing away, jerking and twitching as he chewed. Dalton fell, clutching at his arm. Angie fell with him, dropping to her knees to cradle him.

  Maylee slammed her bat into the man's skull. The man convulsed, vomiting a thick white fluid. Maylee slammed again and the man fell, still, to the ground. Maylee shrieked and kept pounding. Her bat clanged against the pavement as she slammed downward.

  Angie barely heard it. She barely saw it. She kept her eyes on Dalton. He looked scared and confused, clutching his arm and looking at her. Angie gripped him tight and rocked him.

  “Oh god no. No no no no.”

  * * *

  Angie knelt on the stone floor, next to Dalton. They'd carried him to a nearby faux-cave that was part of a leopard exhibit. Rain pounded down outside. Maylee crouched by the door, her bat on her knees. She stared outside. The screams, growls and groans had faded.

  Dalton was sweating and staring at the ceiling. Angie mopped his head with a rag she'd torn from her shirt. The wound on his arm oozed through the makeshift bandage she'd made from part of her pants. She wondered how long he had. Hours? Days?

  Maylee crawled over to where she and Dalton sat. Maylee looked heartbroken. “How are you doing?” she said.

  “Okay,” said Dalton, looking at her and smiling weakly. He looked scared.

  Footsteps arrived outside. Angie turned to look. Park knelt down. He had Lori's body over his shoulder. She was bound and gagged.

  “Park,” said Angie, quietly. “I...”

  “Save it,” said Park, adjusting Lori's body on his shoulder. “I've got my kid and I'm
going.”

  “Park, she's...”

  “I know that, dammit. I also know she's going to come back and I'm going to have to kill her again.”

  Angie was quiet, staring at him.

  He stared back. “I'm done, Angela,” he said. “I've seen both my kids killed and I dug a man's throat out with my own hands. I'm done. I'm taking my kid and I'm leaving. I'll put her down again, then I'll end myself. Like I should have done days ago. Thanks for the waste of time.”

  He stood and walked off, taking Lori's body with him.

  Maylee started to stand. “Parker!”

  Angie grabbed her and shook her head.

  * * *

  Hours went by as they sat in the cave, huddled over Dalton. He coughed and sweated, passing in and out of sleep. At Angie's bidding, Maylee went outside to find a loaded tranquilizer rifle. She brought one back, looking like she could cry as she handed it to Angie.

  Angie sat with the rifle, staring at Dalton. His breathing was labored and he looked pale.

  They sat there for hours, silently.

  At some point, Angie fell asleep sitting up.

  She jerked awake as she heard Dalton groan.

  “Dalton?” she said, clutching the rifle and fighting the urge to turn it on herself. If it wasn't for Maylee, she would.

  “Mom?” said Dalton. Angie loosened her grip on the rifle and rubbed her tired eyes. His color had returned.

  Angie put her hand on his forehead. It felt normal. She pulled the bandage from his arm. The oozing had stopped. It looked sore, but no different from any of the animal bites Angie had seen back in the ER.

  “What's going on?” said Dalton.

  “I don't know, baby,” said Angie. “Maylee!”

  Maylee jerked awake from where she was slumped against the cave wall. She crawled over, blinking. She gasped when she saw Dalton. “Dalton? Mom, what's going on?”

  Angie pushed her fingers into Dalton's neck. She felt his pulse, steady and normal. She rubbed his cheek, feeling like she would cry if she wasn't so stunned.

  Angie turned to Maylee. “I think Dalton's immune.”