"I'll be taking some gas and turning your radio down, if that's

  okay." He stared at the teen, watching for any sign of movement. He

  wondered if he should use a bullet to be sure.

  "Okay then. Don't get up on my account." Park turned and

  walked out of the aisle, doing his best to avoid stepping in any blood.

  * * *

  Maylee held tight to Dalton's hand, pulling him along with her.

  "Hurry, Maylee," said Dalton, hand on his stomach.

  "I am," said Maylee. "Please, just don't shit your pants."

  "I'm telling Mom you cussed."

  "I'll tell her you shit your pants."

  "I didn't!" said Dalton.

  "You will, though. Any second now."

  "Nuh-uh!"

  "Hold it, then," said Maylee. She stopped as they reached the

  corner of the station. She gripped the handle of her bat tightly with her

  free hand.

  "Hurry!" said Dalton. "I have to go!"

  "I know, Dalton, I know. But we have to be careful." She

  peered around the corner, looking down the side wall where the

  bathroom was. "These things can be anywhere."

  "But you told Mom we could see them now."

  "We can't if they're hiding in the trees." She scanned the woods

  behind the gas station. She saw nothing.

  But was she sure?

  After a moment, she turned back to Dalton. "Okay, its clear.

  Come on."

  They hurried along the side of the gas station. The bathroom

  was set midway along the wall. The door was dirty and rusted. Men

  was printed on it. Next to the printing were words scrawled with magic

  marker. And Women. Other One's Busted.

  "Joy," said Maylee. "Get in there and hurry before I piss my

  pants."

  Dalton ran for the door and pushed it open. She caught a

  Ashton Memorial

  29

  glimpse of the toilet. It was filthy. Dalton stopped, looking at it.

  "Gross."

  "It's that or the woods," said Maylee. "Just hurry. And leave the

  door unlocked in case you have to get out quick."

  Dalton scrunched up his nose and stepped inside. The door shut

  with a squeak behind him.

  Maylee leaned against the wall, just next to the door. She could

  hear muffled sounds of Dalton going to the bathroom.

  "Gross beyond all space and time," she whispered, focusing on

  her surroundings. The raindrops came more quickly now. Several

  pattered at her feet, disappearing into the dry leaves and grass. She

  scanned the trees again. Still nothing.

  She looked up at the sky. Gray and cloudy. Raindrops fell

  toward her face. A few hit her cheeks. It would have been refreshing

  but Maylee was tired and cold.

  A rustle came from the woods.

  Maylee's breath caught and she looked back to the trees. She

  gripped her bat with both hands.

  Just a breeze, she thought.

  Then she heard it again. A rustle followed by a crunch of dry

  leaves or maybe a twig.

  That's no breeze.

  She froze, staring at the woods. Afraid to make any sound. It

  could be an animal. Or it could be a corpse. Or several corpses. What if

  shed led them to the gas station?

  She heard another crunch and a shape moved through the trees.

  It looked like a woman, chubby and short. From between tree trunks,

  Maylee could see one of her eyes was missing and her face was coated

  in blood.

  "Shit," Maylee whispered. As far as she could tell, the corpse

  hadn't noticed her. Hadn't noticed the gas station at all. Maylee inched

  toward the bathroom door. The corpse kept staggering among the trees.

  Her hand shaking, Maylee slowly reached for the door. Slowly,

  slower than she'd ever done anything in her life, she pushed the door

  inward. She heard Dalton grunt and a splash.

  "Gross," she whispered. She pushed the door farther in. It gave

  out a loud squeak.

  Robert R. Best

  30

  Maylee gasped, watching the corpse. It whipped its head

  around but did not focus on her.

  "Maylee!" came Dalton's voice behind her. "Shut the door,

  sicko!"

  The corpse looked right at Maylee. It groaned.

  "Shit!" said Maylee, ducking inside and slamming the door.

  * * *

  Angie watched through the front window of the gas station as

  Park moved behind the counter. He looked left to right, then found

  something. He walked over and looked down, studying and fiddling

  with whatever it was.

  She looked around, cold creeping through her. What was taking

  him so long? What was taking the kids so long? Was everything

  actually taking this long or was she losing her mind? She was so tired.

  A beep came from the pump. The display flashed for a second,

  then said Lift Nozzle And Begin Fueling. Park turned to the window and

  gave her thumbs-up.

  Angie sighed and nodded to him. She undid the gas cap on the

  car and lifted the nozzle from the pump. She pushed the nozzle into the

  gas tank and squeezed the handle. The nozzle clicked and she heard gas

  pouring.

  She breathed out again, thankful it had worked.

  Then she heard rustling from behind the gas station. More

  rustling than the wind had made earlier.

  Then moans.

  * * *

  Park gave Angie a thumbs-up through the window. She nodded

  to him and started pumping gas into the car.

  He took one last glance down at the control panel for the pumps.

  As far as he could tell, everything seemed to be working. Static still

  blared from somewhere nearby. He found a radio under the counter, set

  on top of some empty boxes. The box was labeled with the logo of a

  potato chip company. Park knelt to switch the radio off, then spent a

  second staring at the logo.

  Ashton Memorial

  31

  "Fuck, now I'm hungry," he said.

  He straightened back up and looked down the aisle at the teen's

  body.

  "Hey, mind if we get some food for the road?"

  He stared at the teen. Enough of the teen's head was gone to be

  safe, wasn't it? How fresh was the body, even? How long did it take for

  corpses to get up, if they were going to? If he just had more ammo, he

  could be sure.

  Park nodded at the body. "Okay, then. I'll just grab some chips

  then get out of your hair."

  The teen was still. Park nodded again, this time to himself, and

  walked out from behind the counter. He scanned the aisles, reading the

  signs. The one on the end, farthest from the door, was labeled Snacks.

  "Fuck shit hell," grumbled Park. "It would be the one way the

  hell over there."

  He walked over to the snack aisle and turned down it.

  A corpse sat on the floor, gnawing at the mangled remains of

  another body. It was a little girl, fingers coated with blood. Her ears

  were missing, along with most of the skin on her face. Her black hair

  was matted with gore. Park stopped midstep, staring down at her. No

  ears. She hadn't heard him come in.

  Then the girl saw him. She hissed, bloody meat falling from her

  mouth, and lunged for him. Her tiny fingers closed around his pant leg.

  Park twisted around, attempting to kick at the girl, then fell into the

  snacks. The shelf and Park toppled over backward. The girl held on to

  his leg. The rifle was pinned between his back and the shelf, out of

  reach.

  "Shit!" yelled Park. "Fucking kid!" He heard a creak and a thud

  as the shelf behind him fell over. Then the next, then the next. There

  was a chaos of clattering and crashing as cans, bags and auto products

  fell to the floor.

  The girl clawed her way up Park's clothes, coming for his face.

  Park's hand flailed to one side, grabbing at anything nearby. It closed

  on something. He brought it up and slammed it into the girl's face. It

  was a bag, which split as it connected with the girl's skull. Potato chips

  rained down on Park. The girl gnashed at the bag and the few chips that

  remained inside, trying to get to Park. The blood from her skinned face

  Robert R. Best

  32

  mingled with the plastic and salt.

  Using the remains of the bag as a shield for his hand, Park

  pushed the girl's face back until he had enough leverage to shove.

  When he did, he flung her to the floor next to the ruined body she'd

  been eating.

  "Just be happy with what you got there," Park said, turning to

  climb up the fallen shelf. "Looks delicious."

  * * *

  "Get out of here, Maylee!" yelled Dalton from the toilet,

  drawing up his legs and covering his lap.

  "Shh!" said Maylee, as quietly as she could. "There's one of

  those things out there!" She spun to face the door, looking for the lock.

  She found it and pushed it closed.

  "What?" said Dalton behind her, flushing. "Get Mom!"

  "There's no time!" said Maylee. Moaning came from outside.

  Then a scratching noise as the corpse ran its fingers up and down the

  metal door.

  "What are we going to do?" said Dalton. Maylee heard him

  zipping up his pants and she turned.

  "I don't know." She remembered the bat in her hand. "I guess

  there's just the one, and we got the bat. If we can get to Mom..."

  A second groan came from behind the door. A different voice.

  Something slammed against the door so hard it shook.

  "Shit!" said Maylee, spinning around. The door rattled. The old

  lock would give before long.

  "Maylee," said Dalton.

  Maylee scanned the room, panic creeping through her. She saw

  the toilet Dalton had been on, a sink and an old rusted space heater.

  She pointed to the heater. "Plug that thing in."

  "Why?"

  "Just do it!" yelled Maylee. A third moan came from the door.

  The metal door shook again, harder than before.

  Dalton went to the space heater and, kneeling down, plugged it

  in. The coils hummed and started to glow.

  "Pick it up!" ordered Maylee. She ran to one wall and set her

  bat against it. She'd need both hands for what she had in mind.

  Ashton Memorial

  33

  "It'll get hot!"

  "Don't touch the hot parts, dumbass!" Maylee ran to the toilet

  paper dispenser. She unrolled as much as she could as quickly as she

  could. She tore the mass free and ran to the sink. She shoved the paper

  into the drain until it was completely clogged.

  "What are you doing?" said Dalton, gingerly holding the space

  heater.

  Still standing at the sink, Maylee used her foot to kick the lid of

  the toilet down. "Stand on the toilet!"

  "What? Why?" said Dalton. The door shook and rattled hard.

  Any second now, Maylee knew, the lock would break. Groans and

  hissing came from outside.

  "Just do it!" Maylee turned on the water in the sink. Both taps,

  full blast.

  * * *

  Angie whipped her head from side to side, looking for the

  source of the moans. They seemed to come from everywhere. The gas

  nozzle clicked off behind her. The tank was full. The rain started full

  strength. Cold, hard and fast.

  Corpses stumbled from the right side of the gas station. Five of

  them, maybe. The rain made it hard to tell.

  Angie looked to the station. Park struggled with a corpse inside.

  Moans came from the left side of the station. From where the

  bathrooms were.

  Angie's chest tightened and she ran toward the bathrooms.

  "Maylee! Dalton!"

  Corpses stumbled around from the left side, blocking her way.

  * * *

  Park climbed up the fallen shelf, heading for the shelf behind it.

  Bags of chips crunched underneath him. The girl's fingers closed on his

  leg from behind.

  "Dammit, girl! You could have attacked me when I didn't have

  my fucking gun on my fucking back!" He considered reaching for the

  Robert R. Best

  34

  rifle, but if he let go of the shelf he would slide down to her waiting

  hands and mouth. He kicked blindly with his free leg. He connected

  and heard a wet crunch. The girl let go and Park clambered to the next

  shelf. Magazines. Cars, musicians and porno. He climbed up the shelf

  but the slick glossy paper gave him no footing. He slipped and fell back

  toward the first shelf. He turned, struggling to reach the gun. His hand

  found the barrel but it was again pinned between his back and the shelf.

  He saw the girl coming for him.

  He grabbed a magazine as he slid toward the girl. Drunk and

  Willing, the magazine said. Park had several issues himself. He rolled

  the magazine up and slammed the girl across the face. Her head

  whipped to one side but she quickly corrected. She climbed back up on

  his chest, hissing and snapping at his face.

  Park shoved the end of the rolled-up magazine into her mouth.

  She gurgled and gnashed her teeth at the paper, shredding it. Bits of

  paper floated down to Park's chest as he pushed the magazine and the

  girl away from him.

  He shoved hard and she fell back. He turned and climbed up the

  shelf. This time he made it over the magazines and onto the next rack.

  Auto supplies. Oil and steering fluid. This was the aisle the teen was in.

  Park briefly wondered where the teen's body had gone, then realized it

  was hidden under the fallen shelf.

  He cast a glance back at the girl. She was coming after him but

  was still climbing up the snacks. Again he considered the rifle, but he

  couldn't afford letting go of the shelf.

  "Sorry kid," Park said, "but I gotta go."

  He turned and started to climb up the auto supply shelf. A new

  hand closed on his arm.

  Park looked at the hand and followed it to the source. The teen,

  most of his head chewed open, was grabbing for him.

  "You gotta be fucking kidding," said Park, pulling his arm away.

  The teen was weak. He moaned softly and moved his head limply from

  side to side. Dark blood and slime oozed from the shallow hole in the

  teens head.

  Park heard hissing from behind him and turned to see the girl.

  She was on the magazine rack now. Her bloody face dripped onto the

  paper. She gnashed her red teeth at him. The teen from his side moaned

  and grabbed for him again.

  Ashton Memorial

  35

  Park turned back to climb up the shelf. Beyond the shelf lay the

  window leading outside the station. The teen clutched at his shoulder,

  stronger now. Park struggled to pull away. He could hear the girl

  getting closer behind him.

  Park grabbed a can of motor oil and turned as best he could with

  the teen's hand on his shoulder. He flung the can at the girl as hard as

  he could manage. It slammed against her forehead with a loud "crack".

  She blinked her bloody eyes and slid back down the shelf.

  The teen to his side gurgled and leaned in to bite. Blood pooled

  in the teen's mouth and drained from his ears. Park grabbed a second

  can and brought it down on the teen's head. The teen gurgled and let go.

  Park brought the can down again. The boy's skull popped and brain

  matter oozed out. The teen gave a final, soft moan and fell back.

  "Dammit," said Park. "Stay down this time."

  The girl hissed behind him. Park looked back to see her nearly

  upon him.

  * * *

  Maylee watched the sink fill as Dalton climbed onto the toilet,

  holding the space heater. Corpses banged on the door. The door shook

  and rattled, sounding looser all the time. Maylee wondered how long

  they had.

  "Maylee," said Dalton from the toilet. He sounded nervous.

  "Hold on," she said. The sink filled up and water overflowed

  onto the floor. Water spread to Maylee's feet and beyond.

  Maylee turned and looked at the door. The groans behind it

  were too numerous to count. The banging and clawing were coming

  faster. The door rattled hard, nearly giving way.

  She ran to the toilet and climbed up next to Dalton. There was

  barely enough room for both of them. She struggled to balance.

  "Give me the heater," she said.

  Dalton handed it to her. "No arguments there!"

  Maylee winced as she took it. "Shit, this thing is getting hot."

  "I told you," said Dalton, rubbing his hands on his shirt.

  The door shook so hard Maylee thought it was opening. She

  tensed, afraid they weren't ready yet. The door held, but barely. Dalton