Who, p.8

  Who:, p.8

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  She turned and saw a small administration building set behind a

  vending machine. Caleb walked toward it, keycard in hand. He pressed

  the card up to a panel to the right of the door. A light on the panel

  changed from red to green. Caleb opened the door and went inside. A

  moment later, he came back out, shaking his head.

  "Nope," he said. "Not in there."

  "Hey!" a strange voice yelled from one side. They all turned to

  see a balding man stomping up the concrete path toward them. He wore

  jeans and an Ashton Tigers T-shirt under a thin jacket. Behind him

  stood a woman and two teenage boys. They all also wore Tigers T-

  shirts.

  Caleb blinked in surprise, then stepped toward the man. "Can I

  help you sir?"

  "You can let us the motherfuck out of here is what you can

  fucking do!"

  Tom stepped over, in front of Caleb. "Okay, dude, time to settle

  down."

  "You'll settle down on my dick!" The man jabbed a finger at

  Tom, then walked past him to confront Caleb.

  "What seems to be the problem sir?" said Caleb. Ella knew what

  it was. She couldn't believe they'd all forgotten last night. She knew

  what the man was about to say.

  "The problem," said the man, "is you people locked the damn

  gates last night! You locked us all in here, you stupid prick!" The man

  shoved Caleb. Caleb staggered backward. The tranquilizer rifle slipped

  off his shoulder and clattered to the concrete.

  "Caleb!" yelled Shelley, running up behind him and putting her

  hand on his shoulder.

  "You stay out of this bitch!" yelled the man. "Now let us the fuck

  out! We're cold and hungry and you trapped us in here!"

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  61

  Caleb held up his hands. "Sir, please, it's dangerous outside."

  "I don't give a fuck about a few homeless-looking assholes

  outside. I'm getting my family home! And you will unlock the gate or I

  will pound you and your stupid bitch girlfriend into paste!"

  "Back off, fucker!" yelled Tom, stepping up and shoving the

  man.

  The man roared and punched Tom across the jaw. Tom staggered

  back.

  Behind Ella, the giraffe shuffled its feet and gave a nervous snort.

  The man turned to punch Caleb then stopped as they all heard a

  rifle cock.

  Frozen mid-stance, everyone turned their heads to see Lee

  holding the tranquilizer rifle. His hands were shaking as he kept the

  barrel trained on the balding man.

  "Everyone just settle down, please!" said Lee.

  "Lee," said Caleb.

  "You gonna shoot me now?" said the man, face turning red, but

  staying still. His fist was still up in the air, mid-punch. "You gonna gun

  down me and my family to cover up your little mistake?"

  "It's just a tranquilizer dart, sir," said Caleb. "Please, Lee, put it

  down."

  "No!" said Lee, his voice shaking in time with his arms. "He's

  crazy. He's crazy and we need to sedate him."

  "Lee, it could kill him!" said Shelley.

  "No," said Lee. "It's a low dose. Enough for a monkey. Enough

  for a big punch-happy monkey like fuck-face mcgoo here. I dealt with

  fuckers like you in high school. Now you calm down or I will calm you

  down myself!" His shaking voice went up in pitch as he ended the

  sentence. He panted, ragged and wheezing. He kept the gun trained on

  the man.

  "Dad," said one of the teenage boys behind him.

  "Stay out of this, son," said the man, licking his lips and looking

  among the group of Keepers. "Listen, buddy. We don't want any

  trouble."

  "Fuck you don't," Lee said.

  "Lee," said Caleb, taking a slow step toward him.

  "Stay back, Caleb!" said Lee.

  Robert R. Best

  62

  Tom stepped over quickly and grabbed the barrel of the rifle,

  moving it a few inches off its target. "Lee, let it go!"

  Lee screamed in surprise and pulled the trigger. There was a

  sharp "crack" as the rifle went off and a whistling noise as the dart flew

  from it.

  The bald man grabbed his throat and stumbled back. Blood shot

  from between his fingers and over the dart embedded in his throat.

  "Dad!" yelled one of the teenage boys, rushing forward.

  "Shit, Lee!" yelled Tom. "What the fuck did you do?"

  Lee recocked the rifle and pointed it at the rushing boy. "Back!"

  he yelled. His voice shook violently. "Everybody back! That was an

  accident! I swear it was an accident."

  The bald man clutched at his neck. Blood raced down his arm

  and splattered onto the ground. His eyes were wide. He choked and

  gurgled.

  The woman behind the man screamed. The giraffe behind Ella

  snorted and stamped its feet.

  The man's face turned red. He bellowed in rage, blood spattering

  from his mouth, and rushed at Lee and the other Keepers. Lee screamed

  and fired again.

  With a high-pitched whistle and thwack the dart lodged in the

  man's forehead. The man stopped, legs wobbling. He toppled down and

  was still.

  "Dad!" yelled both the boys in unison. The woman screamed and

  cried.

  Caleb looked around in panic.

  "We'll kill you!" yelled one of the boys.

  "Run!" yelled Caleb. "Everyone run!"

  The Keepers and Ella ran back the way they had come. Ella

  turned back to see the boys and their mother crowding around the bald

  man's body.

  One of the boys saw Ella. "You're all dead, bitch!" he screamed.

  Ella turned and ran.

  Four

  Ashton was chaos.

  Homes were torn open, their contents spilled onto lawns and

  driveways. Businesses were looted and broken. Bodies littered streets

  and sidewalks. And everywhere, everywhere, corpses wandered and

  ate.

  Angie took side streets everywhere she could. Any time she

  took a major road, any time she got anywhere close to downtown, she

  saw mobs of corpses and screaming victims. The asphalt was streaked

  with blood. The side streets were quieter, more manageable.

  Rain pattered on the windshield as she drove up a residential

  street. The houses were old and packed way too close together. Angie

  wondered how anyone lived like that. She clicked the wipers on, then

  off. They squeaked their way across the windshield, smearing the rain

  more than removing it. The intermittent switch had given out years ago.

  "Here," she said as an apartment complex came up on their left.

  More rain collected on the windshield. She clicked the wipers on, then

  off. She turned into the parking lot behind the complex. She had to

  steer around a car that stuck out from a spot at an odd angle.

  Angie stopped in the middle of the parking lot, looking around.

  She didn't see much point in trying to find a spot. The idea of parking

  spots seemed to have been abandoned within the last twenty-four hours.

  Cars were parked crookedly or across multiple spots. A large trash bin

  had been turned over. Garbage was strewn out across the pavement. A

  few stray cats sniffed at it.

  She put the shifter into park and shut off the engine. Maylee

  and Dalton snored in the back seat. Angie sighed, looking at the

  building. As best as she could remember, Bobby's apartment was on the

  second floor of the two-floor complex.

  "This where your brother lives?" said Park, looking at the

  complex then back at her.

  "Yeah," said Angie.

  "You don't seem too thrilled to be here."

  Angie took in a deep breath then let it out. "When my ex, Jake,

  Robert R. Best

  64

  left me with the kids, my wonderful brother in there took his side in the

  divorce. They'd been buddies when we were married. He chose his

  buddy over me."

  "Fuck me," said Park, shaking his head. "You always stick up

  for family, whether they're right or not."

  "Well, I was right, and he stuck up for Jake. So let's go see how

  good old brother Bobby's doing. If he's okay and his truck's still

  working, you can have the car."

  Park looked at her and nodded. She leaned into the back seat

  and put a hand on Maylee's knee. Maylee jerked awake, blinking and

  rubbing her eyes. Dalton followed.

  "Hey guys," Angie said, softly. "We're here."

  Maylee and Dalton looked around the lot from the car. Maylee

  picked up her bat from where it rested against her knee. "Looks bad,

  Mom."

  "It does," Angie said. "We have to go see if Bobby's okay. And

  it's too dangerous to leave you two in the car. So we're all going. Just

  stay really, really close. Got it?"

  Maylee and Dalton nodded.

  "I said 'got it?'"

  "Got it," said Maylee and Dalton, almost in unison.

  "Good," said Angie. She looked back at Park. "Then let's go."

  They all opened their doors and climbed outside. Cold rain

  pelted down on their heads as they looked around.

  Angie nodded toward a bright red pickup parked facing the

  building. "That's his truck. When we talked last Christmas, he kept

  going on and on about it." The truck glistened in the rain, like it had

  been recently waxed. A long gouge ran up one side.

  "Looks like it had a rough trip home," said Park. He shut his

  door and readied the rifle in front of him.

  "Yeah," said Angie, shutting hers. "Two bullets left?"

  "Two."

  "Okay then. Let's go."

  Maylee and Dalton shut their doors and they all walked slowly

  across the parking lot. Rain fell around them. It dawned on Angie that it

  was unusually quiet for a city block. She heard a siren, far away. But

  nothing else. Whether this was a good or bad sign, she couldn't tell.

  They came up to the truck from the side. As they got closer, it

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  65

  became apparent that the truck hadn't been parked facing the wall so

  much as slammed against it. The front was crumpled and a headlight

  hung loose.

  "Shit," said Angie. They stepped toward the wall and inspected

  the front of the truck more closely. "Think it'll run?"

  "Not sure," said Park. "I'd have to take a closer look and..."

  And they all jerked back as a scratching noise came from the

  truck bed. Park pointed the gun through the windshield, toward the

  back of the truck. Maylee gripped her bat and stood close to Dalton.

  Angie grabbed Dalton's shoulder and braced herself, waiting for

  something to come around from the back.

  Nothing did. Just more soft scratching. Slowly they relaxed and

  looked at each other.

  "Whad'ya think?" said Angie, softly.

  Park shrugged, scratching his beard. "Dunno. Got two shots

  left, I guess. Let's check it out."

  Slowly, Park leading the way with the rifle, they walked around

  the front of the truck and up the side. With each step they took, the

  scratching noise grew louder. Rain fell around them. They reached the

  truck bed and looked over the side, Park pointing the rifle down into

  the bed just in case.

  A rotten and nude female corpse lay there, face down. She was

  missing both legs and she dragged her rotten fingers across the truck

  bed. She moaned softly. Her naked skin was gray and pockmarked,

  with blue veins clearly visible all over her body.

  "Gross," said Dalton.

  Park kept the gun pointed at the corpse's head. It groaned and

  clawed at the bed, not noticing them. He lowered the gun and looked to

  Angie. "Guess if the truck runs you can get her out later."

  "Yeah," said Angie, looking down at the clawing naked

  woman. "Better save the bullet."

  They turned and left the corpse, and the truck, behind. Slowly

  they made their way to the door that led into the complex.

  Angie pushed open the door and looked around. She stepped

  inside, Maylee behind her, then Dalton. Then Park with the gun.

  The hallway was dim and quiet. Doors lined both sides of the

  hallway, each with a number indicating an apartment. One door,

  Robert R. Best

  66

  halfway down the hall, was open. Light flickered from inside but there

  was no other movement.

  Angie looked to her left and saw a flight of stairs leading up.

  "Okay," she said, startled at how loud her voice sounded. "His place's

  on the next floor. Come on."

  They walked up the stairs to the first landing. With each step,

  Angie became increasingly aware of the silence in the building. The air

  was thick with it. The creaks of their footsteps on the stairs seemed

  unnaturally loud.

  They reached the landing and turned. A corpse stood waiting on

  the first step of the next flight.

  It was a fat man with no shirt and a large split running across

  his abdomen. The split was deep enough that his intestines poked out.

  He moaned and took a step forward.

  Angie and the others rushed back to the first flight of stairs and

  the fat man stumbled onto the landing, almost falling into the railing.

  Park stepped on the landing and pointed the rifle at the man's forehead.

  "No!" whispered Angie, stepping up to grab the barrel and push

  it downward. "There might be more of them! We have to be quiet!"

  Park scowled at her for a second, then shrugged. He pulled the

  gun away from her grip and flipped it around to hold it by the barrel.

  The corpse groaned softly and came at him. Park jabbed the butt of the

  gun at the corpse's forehead. It connected with a soft smacking sound

  and the corpse stumbled backward into the railing.

  Park stepped forward and smacked the corpse again. It fell

  backward, its back bending over the railing. Its head and shoulders

  hung over and its legs shuffled on the landing floor. Its arms flailed.

  One of its fat hands closed on Angie's smock. It groaned and pulled her

  toward him.

  "Mom!" said Maylee, rushing back up onto the landing and

  brandishing the bat.

  "Shh!" whispered Angie. "No noise! Just stay back."

  "Fuck that," whispered Maylee, rushing farther toward them.

  "What did you say young lady?" whispered Angie, struggling

  with the corpse's hand.

  Maylee stayed quiet and knelt down. She set the bat down and

  grabbed the corpse's legs.

  "What are you doing!" whispered Angie.

  Ashton Memorial

  67

  "Mom, shh!" said Maylee. She looked up at Park. "Push him!"

  Park looked at Maylee, then at Angie. He shrugged. He leaned

  over the railing with the rifle, putting the butt on the fat man's forehead.

  He pushed. The corpse groaned.

  "Harder!" whispered Maylee.

  Park grunted and pushed down hard. Maylee tightened her grip

  on the corpse's legs and pushed them toward the railing. There was a

  sickening cracking noise as the corpse's back broke. Part of the man's

  intestines spilled out through the slit in his abdomen. Blood ran down

  the man's front. Maylee let go and jumped back before the blood

  reached her.

  The fat hand went limp and let go of Angie. She pulled away.

  Maylee picked up her bat and stood. She and Park stepped over to

  Angie. Dalton came back onto the landing to join them.

  Maylee looked very proud of herself. Angie glared at her.

  "Don't you ever do anything like that again, young lady!" she

  whispered. Her heart was pounding. "And second, that was good

  thinking. But still, don't do it!"

  Maylee scowled at her and looked at Park. Park lifted his

  hands, rifle in one, as if to say not to involve him.

  The corpse moaned, his head hanging down over the railing.

  His body was limp and still. They all looked over at it, then back to

  each other.

  "Okay," whispered Angie. "Everyone stay quiet and let's go."

  They reached the top of the stairs quietly. Angie leaned out the

  door to the stairwell, looking down the second-floor hallway. It seemed

  as still and quiet as the first. The quiet felt like it was closing in around

  her. She shook the feeling off and turned to the others.

  "Okay, looks clear," she whispered. "Bobby's place is down at

  the end. Come on and stay quiet."

  They all stepped off the stairs and made their way down the

  hall. They stepped slowly and softly, Angie in front, Park behind her

  with the gun, then Dalton, then Maylee with the bat. Angie felt proud

  of Maylee for her quick thinking. Hell, she felt proud of her for getting

  herself and Dalton to the hospital the night before. But she couldn't tell

  her that, could she? She couldn't encourage that kind of behavior. It

 
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