Lakewood Memorial by Robert R. Best

backyard
greeted him. Dark and silent. The moonlight he'd seen before was
gone. Cloudy ,
Dalton thought. Just
great .
    He stuck his head out to look around. Just
in time to see a corpse stumble around the corner.
    Crap! He snapped off the flashlight and ducked back inside,
shutting the door as silently as he could. He heard the thing
drawing near. He'd gotten a good look at it. It was the man they'd
seen out the window earlier. The one with his head bent all the way
back. So maybe it hadn't seen Dalton. Had it?
    The shape of the corpse appeared in the
door's window. It moaned, muffled by the wood of the door. It
stopped just outside the window.
    Crap. It saw me. Or it can smell me.
    And he hadn't gotten a ladder ready to climb
back up the hole. Was there even a ladder down here? How could he
be so stupid?
    He swallowed, his heart pounding, and stared
at the shape in the window.
    With a groan, the shape shuffled out of
view.
    Dalton breathed out. It hadn't noticed
him.
    He clicked the flashlight back on and
scanned the basement for a ladder. He found one, rusting in a
corner. He grabbed it and dragged it to the hole. It was the kind
that opened to stand on its own, which was a relief. He opened it
and placed it under the hole. He looked up at Maylee.
    "Okay. All clear," he said. "You guys start
banging in about five minutes."
    Maylee nodded and disappeared from view.
    Dalton drew himself up and turned to head
for the door.
     
     

 
    Sixteen
     
     
     
    Angie heard movement coming from the utility
closet. She stepped away from the nurse's desk and ran over.
    Park was coming down the ladder, a rifle
slung over one shoulder.
    "My god," she said. "I can't believe that
honestly worked."
    Park snorted. "Thanks a lot." He stepped
away from the ladder.
    Kristen was kneeling by Mr. Paulson's
wheelchair, helping Freeda check the oxygen tank. She stood up and
walked over to the closet. "Sam? Where's Sam? We heard a lot of
noise."
    Sam appeared on the ladder. "I bet you did.
That was genius-boy smashing the outside ladder. We aren't getting
out that way now." He dropped to the bottom of the closet and
adjusted his glasses.
    "We weren't getting out that way before,
anyway," said Park. He pulled a box of ammo from his pocket and
started loading the rifle.
    "Well, it's nice to have options," said Sam.
He nodded to Kristen, who smiled and walked back over to Mr.
Paulson.
    "Okay," said Angie,
checking her cell phone for any missed calls. There were none.
"Let's get ready to move." She nodded to Freeda, who nodded
back. Dear God, let my kids be
okay .
    Sam was frowning about something. "Give me a
second," he said, stepping into the hallway. "Gotta get this thing
loaded."
    * * *
    Sam stepped into the hallway and fumbled
with his gun. Dammit, Kristen hadn't even touched him. He'd nearly
died out there, and she hadn't even touched him.
    Her dad. Always her dad. She barely looked
at Sam anymore.
    Of course he'd said okay
when the old man needed to move in. How could he not? But the old
man took so much damned time and attention. Sam was forty-five and
childless. They'd never have children at this rate. Hell, the old
man was their
child. A vulgar, hateful child.
    Hot tears stung his eyes and he took off his
glasses to rub them. No time for this. No time for crying or for
being a whiny little bitch about life. Time to man up.
    He put the glasses back on and felt around
in his pocket for the box of ammo.
    Moaning came from the nearest patient
room.
    Panic shot up Sam's back. How'd those things
get inside? How many of them were there?
    Then he realized. It was just Park's
friend.
    He breathed out and started to the others
for help. Then he cursed himself.
    Fuck, does the pussy need help checking on
some sick asshole? Dammit, Shuab, be a man!
    He sighed and stepped into the patient
room.
    The sick guy was lying on the bed, moving
his head from side to side. The guy's eyes were cloudy and his
mouth chewed slowly at nothing.
    "Hey, Moe? It is Moe,