Lakewood Memorial (15 page)

"Now!" yelled Angie, jumping from the desk
and back to the others. She and Park pushed the desk to the other
side of the door, right over the already-sputtering flame. The
corpses were still backing away, moaning and wincing at the
fire.

"Hurry!" said Angie. Kristen and Mr. Paulson
rushed out the door and into the hallway. Angie and Park moved to
the far side of the desk and pushed it against the door, blocking
it. They both climbed over the desk and out the door.

Angie shut the door, looking at the corpses
filling the nurse's station. Freeda's body was still in there, but
she pushed the thought down. There was no helping that.

"Too bad these don't lock from the outside,"
said Angie.

"The desk should slow them down pretty
good," said Park, turning to look down the hallway.

"Yeah," Angie nodded.

A moan came from further down the hall. The
rest of the group turned to look. A corpse, a man with a missing
ear and arm, was stumbling toward them.

"Hey fuckface," said Park. "You missed the
party in the room back there."

Park leveled the rifle at the corpse and
fired. The corpse's head snapped back and it dropped to the
floor.

"Not bad," said Angie.

"Yeah," said Park. "If only deer would walk
as slow as these things."

"And if only you two talked as little as
they do," said Mr. Paulson. "Are we going or what?"

"This way," said Angie, walking down the
hallway. "Follow me."

They moved quickly and quietly down the
hall. Angie's back strained under the weight of the alcohol jugs
tied to her waist. The whir of Mr. Paulson's wheelchair was the
only sound.

Each of the patient rooms they passed was
empty. Blood and hunks of meat were scattered across the beds,
across floors and across the walls. But nothing moving. Nothing
biting.

"So far, so good," Angie muttered.

They passed a room and Angie glanced inside.
A patient was hanging sideways off the bed. A large hole had been
chewed into their head. Brain and bloody muck coated the
sheets.

They had cleared the room, Mr. Paulson
bringing up the rear, when a corpse burst through the door.

"Shit!" said Mr. Paulson. The corpse was an
old man in a cowboy hat. Portions of his cheek were missing, and
flaps of bloody skin dangled as he moved.

The man grabbed Mr. Paulson. Mr. Paulson
wrenched at the joystick and the wheelchair sped backward. The man
held on, dragging alongside the chair. The man's teeth inched
toward Mr. Paulson's face.

"Someone get this fucker off me!" Mr.
Paulson yelled.

"Dad!" yelled Kristen, racing after him.

"Dammit, dumbass!" yelled Park. "Use your
gun!"

"Dad!" Kristen kept running, holding her gun
in one hand and showing no sign of using it.

"Shit," said Park. He leveled the gun at the
chair and fired.

Kristen screamed and dropped to her knees.
Mr. Paulson's chair stopped. The corpse shook, then slid to the
floor. Blood oozed from under the corpse's hat.

"You crazy fucker!" said Mr. Paulson,
wheeling the chair further back, away from the corpse.

"Dad!" said Kristen, climbing to her feet
and rushing over. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," said Mr. Paulson. "No
thanks to you three." He wheeled around her and back to Angie and
Park. Kristen followed.

Angie watched them
approach and sighed. Kristen looked shaken, but Angie refused to
feel sorry for her.
Not yet.
"I gave you the gun for a reason," she
said.

Kristen looked at the gun in her hand and
frowned. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Angie said, turning back
to head down the hall. "Just be smart." She started walking. The
others followed.

Things were quiet for several more feet.
Angie held up a hand and the others stopped. A few feet up ahead,
another hallway split off to the right. And many feet ahead of
that, several corpses had stumbled out of their rooms, groaning.
The corpses hadn't noticed them yet.

"Wait here," Angie whispered.

"Fuck that," whispered Park. He turned back
to Kristen and Mr. Paulson. "You two wait here."

Angie and Park crept toward the opening of
the side hallway.

"This the second hallway you talked about?"
whispered Park. The corpses up ahead continued to ignore them.

"Yeah," whispered Angie. "And it looks like
we might have to use it. Unless there's even more of those things
down there."

They reached the edge of the opening and
slowly peered around it.

The second hall was empty.

"Looks good to me," whispered Park.

"Yeah," whispered Angie, casting a glance at
the corpses further down to their left. They still hadn't noticed.
"It's just a longer way around. We'll have to move even faster.
I've got to be outside when my kids get here."

Park nodded.

"Hey!" yelled Mr. Paulson. "Are we fucking
moving in here?"

Angie and Park turned back to Mr. Paulson.
Kristen whispered to him. "Dad, we've got to be quiet."

"For fuck's sake," said Mr. Paulson, loudly.
"You all retarded? Those things are dead. They can't hear."

The corpses down the hall moaned and started
moving toward them.

Mr. Paulson blinked. "Well, fuck me."

"Yeah," said Park.

"Come on," said Angie, starting down the
side hallway.

Park followed her.

They moved quickly for a few feet before
Angie realized Kristen and Mr. Paulson weren't following.

"Wait," said Angie, stopping. She turned and
trotted back to the main hall.

Mr. Paulson was struggling with his chair.
Kristen was trying to help. The corpses were closing in, getting
close to where Angie stood, leaning out into the hallway.

"What's wrong?" said Angie, running
over.

"Fucking chair's broken!" said Mr. Paulson,
wrenching the joystick from one side to the other.

"Careful, Dad," said Kristen. "Don't break
it."

"It's already fucking broken, idiot!" yelled
Mr. Paulson.

Park came back into the hallway. He looked
at the three at the chair, then at the corpses coming closer. "We
gotta move!" he said. He fired down the hallway, taking down one of
the approaching corpses.

Angie moved to the back of the wheelchair.
Mr. Paulson cursed and wrenched at the joystick. The corpses
groaned and drew nearer.

"Wait," said Angie. "A wire came off the
battery. It must have come loose earlier."

Mr. Paulson wrenched the joystick from one
side to the other. "Damn it! Those fucking things are getting
closer!"

"Your fault, dipshit!" said Park, firing at
another corpse. The corpse went into a spasm then fell, limp. Three
were left, getting close now. Soon they would block the way to the
side hall. Park backed up, reloading the rifle.

"Hold on," said Angie, taking hold of the
loose wire and moving it back to the battery.

Park finished loading the rifle and shot
down another corpse. Two were left. "We don't have unlimited ammo
here! I was only able to grab a few boxes!"

Mr. Paulson swore and leaned on the
joystick.

Park fired again. One corpse was left, a
large man with bloody, matted hair.

Angie snapped the wire connector into place
on the battery.

The wheelchair sprung to life and shot down
the hallway. "Shit!" yelled Mr. Paulson. The chair collided with
Park, knocking him forward. Park sprawled to the floor, spinning to
face up, toward the corpse. The corpse groaned and reached down at
him. Park tried to move his rifle into position but the corpse
knocked it aside in its blind grasping.

The corpse groaned and opened its mouth.

A shot rang out. The corpse's head snapped
to one side and its body shook. Then it fell over, off of Park and
onto the floor.

Angie looked to see Kristen lowering her
rifle.

"Shit!" said Park, standing. He kicked the
wheel of Mr. Paulson's chair. "Be fucking careful or you'll be
dragging your crippled ass!"

"Hey!" yelled Kristen, pointing the rifle at
Park. "You leave my father alone!"

Park scowled at her.

More groans came from the far end of the
hall. Another group of corpses came into view.

Angie pushed Kristen's gun down and
addressed Park. "We gotta go."

Kristen pulled her gun away from Angie's
hand but kept it down. "Keep your friend away from my father."

Angie looked at Kristen. "My friend is half
eaten in the nurse's station."

She turned away from Kristen and Mr. Paulson
and headed for the side hall. Park raised his eyebrows at her as
she passed.

She stopped at the
entrance and looked down the second hallway. Still clear, as far as
she could tell. "Okay," she said, looking back to the others.
"Let's hurry."

Twenty-Two

Maylee looked quickly up and down the
street. "Come on," she said. "Let's go."

She ran to the open garage, Dalton behind
her. The car sat inside, the running lights casting the garage in a
dim glow.

"Wait," said Dalton, stopping behind
her.

Maylee stopped and turned. "What?"

Dalton was staring at the garage. "I thought
I heard something in there."

Maylee turned back to look. She saw nothing.
The running lights switched off and the garage fell back into
darkness. She listened. She still heard moans, far away but getting
closer, but nothing coming from the garage.

"It's fine," said Maylee, gripping her bat.
"Come on." She raised up the keys and clicked the unlock button
again.

The running lights came back on.

Something lunged at them from under the
car.

They both screamed and jumped back. Maylee
dropped the keys and raised her bat with both hands.

A small and very startled mouse blinked at
her and ran down the street.

Maylee watched it go for a moment, then let
out her breath and lowered the bat. "Dammit."

"They had mice, too," said Dalton, also
watching the mouse.

"Probably had the same landlord," said
Maylee. Her heart was pounding. She reached down to the pavement
and recovered the keys. "Now hurry up and get in the car."

Maylee ran into the garage and grabbed the
driver's side door handle. She pulled open the door. She cast a
look in the back seat, just in case. Nothing. She tossed the bat
back there and climbed into the driver's seat. Dalton climbed in
the passenger seat. They both shut their doors.

"Okay," said Maylee.

"You sure you can drive?" said Dalton.

"Sure I can do it better than you," said
Maylee. She tried putting a key in the ignition. It didn't fit. She
sighed and tried another one. It didn't fit either.

"You need the key that starts the car," said
Dalton.

"Be quiet, Dalton," said Maylee. Finally she
found a key that fit.

She was about to turn it when a corpse
stumbled into view.

They both gasped.

The corpse was wandering down the street,
passing in front of the open garage door.

"Be quiet," whispered Maylee, staring at the
corpse. "It hasn't heard us."

She heard movement from Dalton's seat and
looked. He was pulling the bat from the back seat.

"Leave that alone," Maylee whispered. "Just
keep quiet and let the thing walk past."

"I want it just in case," whispered Dalton,
clutching the bat and staring out the window. The corpse was
halfway across the open garage door.

"It's mine, anyway," whispered Maylee,
grabbing the bat. "Give it to me."

Dalton pulled back. "No," he whispered.

"Dammit, Dalton," Maylee whispered. They
tugged the bat back and forth. Maylee pulled hard. Dalton scowled
at her and pulled back. Maylee shifted in her seat and her elbow
hit the car horn.

The horn blared out of the garage onto the
street.

"Shit," said Maylee, letting go of the
bat.

The corpse grunted and looked their
direction. Two other corpses came around the corner. All three
began to move toward the car.

"Double shit," said Maylee, grabbing the
keys and turning.

"Hurry!" said Dalton.

The car came to life. The corpses were close
to the garage now. Maylee tried to put her foot on the gas, then
discovered the seat was too far back.

"Shit," she said, reaching down for the seat
lever. She could hear the corpses groaning now.

She pulled the seat up further and
straightened back up. The corpses were in the garage.

"Hurry, Maylee!" yelled Dalton.

Maylee pulled down the gear shift and
slammed on the gas.

The car rocketed backward and slammed into
the garage wall. Maylee and Dalton were thrown back in their
seats.

"Ow!" yelled Dalton.

"Dammit!" said Maylee, fumbling with the
gear shift.

The corpses were closing in on the car.

Maylee moved the shifter into drive and gave
the car gas. The wheels spun but the car didn't move.

"Why aren't we moving?" said Dalton, staring
at the corpses and clutching the bat tightly.

"We're stuck on something!" said Maylee,
pushing harder on the gas. The wheels spun and she smelled smoke.
The corpses reached the car. They grabbed at the hood and
groaned.

"Crap!" yelled Dalton.

Maylee screamed and slammed all her weight
on the gas. The tires screeched but the car stayed put.

"Dammit!" yelled Maylee, slamming her weight
down in the seat. The car bounced. She heard something behind the
car clatter and the tires engaged. The car shot forward, knocking
the corpses aside.

The car bounced onto the street and kept
going. Maylee and Dalton screamed as the car raced across the
street and into a mailbox on the other side. The mailbox flew
across the yard and smashed against the wall of the house behind
it.