Fun World Read online

  The sun was just beginning to set beyond the distant horizon, ushering in the first subtle shades of darkness. Staring into the mob, Eric realized he hadn’t considered nighttime, and the thought of it gave him a chill. Scanning the faces of everyone in close proximity was a daunting task even with the sun’s help. With so many people packed so tightly together, spotting the blackened eyes, feral snarls, and emotionless expressions he’d come to associate with the infected was extremely challenging. In the dying light, the gray cast painted everything with an ominous tone, and he found himself second-guessing his assessment of everyone he saw. He wondered how well the monsters could see in the dark, and he prayed it wasn’t any better than their uninfected counterparts. Even so, they were the hunters and they had nothing to lose. Eric and Lila were prey with everything on the line. He waited patiently for a break in the crowd and, steeling his nerves, the two of them dropped down from the planter.

  The Old Western Frontier’s main thoroughfare was no less chaotic than the rest of the park they’d experienced since their fateful Happy Little World ride. Four walkways converged and emptied into the large open space surrounded by shops, restaurants, and other attractions. Although the number of people was greater, the extra space allowed for more freedom of movement. On the other side of the crowd was a sign that read Broadway with an arrow pointing straight ahead. All of a sudden, the memory of their arrival at the park that morning came flooding back. Broadway was Fun World’s main themed area—the backbone of the park upon which all the other areas were built. Broadway was the way out.

  Like the Red Sea parting for Moses, the crowd ahead inexplicably shifted, creating an opening that led in Broadway’s direction. Eric’s heart soared, and he wondered if their luck had finally changed. He wanted to drop to his knees and give thanks, but he didn’t know how long such a window might last. So instead, he took Lila’s hand and the two bolted through the break in the crowd.

  Any sense of shifting fortune faded away when they emerged from the opening. While they seemed to be at the leading edge of the shitstorm brewing inside the park, the terrible sounds coming from behind them assured them that it was hot on their heels. Looking to his right, Eric did a double take when he saw a young girl standing like a statue amidst the crowd. Her hair was tied up with a big pink bow that looked far too large for her head, and her immobility starkly contrasted the surging crowd’s frenetic movement. Judging from her body language and apparent paralysis, Eric thought she must be in the midst of a full-blown panic attack—something that would cost the girl her life under the current conditions. She appeared to be alone, likely separated from whomever had been accompanying her by the mass of people rushing all around. Blonde and roughly eight years old, the girl was Lila’s doppelganger. In fact, the resemblance was such that Eric risked a glance toward Lila to confirm that he had the correct child. Reassured by the sight of his daughter’s beautiful face, he pressed forward with renewed vigor.

  Before he’d made it two steps, however, the image of the little girl standing helplessly in the crowd reemerged in Eric’s mind. What the hell is she doing? Doesn’t she know she’ll die if she just stands there? Is she injured? Infected? Where are her parents? A thousand questions raced through his head, but only a single answer echoed in reply: help her.

  Part of him wanted to look the other way and keep moving toward the exit. One thought of Lila stranded out there alone, and he knew he couldn’t do that. The thought of someone hurrying past his little girl in the same situation was more than he could bear. The girl needed help and he was close enough to offer it.

  “Dammit!” Eric growled as he cut to the right and headed toward the girl.

  Unwilling to risk being separated from Lila, he squeezed her hand so tightly he worried he might break it. Like a salmon swimming upstream, Eric fought through the fleeing mob with Lila in tow. He wasn’t sure if she’d seen the girl, and he had no time to explain their sudden change of direction. Being in such close proximity to so many people would’ve been unnerving on a good day, but now it was absolutely terrifying. He was all too aware that any one of the people smashing into them could be infected—something that could spell the end for him and Lila.

  As he drew closer, Eric saw the rapid rise and fall of the girl’s chest as well as the subtle quivering of her lips. When her eyes came into view, he breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t see the telltale, black spiderweb lines he’d come to associate with the infection. Even so, they were anything but normal. Hers were the eyes of someone who’d seen too much, too quickly, and at far too young an age. He tried not to imagine the things she’d witnessed, the things that led her to her current predicament.

  When Eric was within arm’s reach, he stretched his free hand out toward the girl. He called to her, imploring her to do the same. If she heard him, she gave no indication. Her lips were all that moved, as she stared blankly into some unknowable distance. He could hear bits and pieces of her incoherent babbling just above the noise of the crowd. While most of her words were unintelligible, he heard just enough to cobble together a mental picture of the horrors lurking in the depths of her eyes.

  “Mom, what are you doing?

  …don’t…it’s Dad…why...eating…stop…please…”

  Hoping to break her trance and silence the words that were too painful to hear, Eric grabbed hold of her arm, which hung limply at her side. Suddenly, the previously motionless girl sprang to life as though his touch had been the antidote to some unknown paralytic spell she’d been under. She wheeled on him, recoiling slightly in the process. For the first time, her gaze locked with his. Brimming with confusion, her eyes possessed no trace of the infected’s blind rage. The girl’s pitiful face bore what could only be described as a thousand-yard stare—a shell-shocked expression that conveyed an ironically peaceful detachment in spite of the circumstances. Eric also thought he saw a hint of acceptance—or perhaps resignation—somewhere in the depths of her eyes. It was a look he’d seen before and one that rarely ended well in his experience. Whether on the faces of soldiers in his former unit or on patients he’d treated as a paramedic, the look was synonymous with giving up. The ugly reality hit him like a hammer through a window, smashing his heart into a million pieces.

  Much to Eric’s surprise, the little girl continued backpedalling, pulling away from him as she moved deeper into the crushing herd. He screamed for her to stop, but his words sounded impotent in comparison to the mob’s thundering roar. The girl’s gaze shifted to Lila, and her expression immediately morphed into one of abject horror. It was a startling transformation that conveyed so much emotion. Though he had no way to be sure, her expression seemed to be born out of a deep-seated fear for Lila rather than any concern about her own fate.

  In that moment, Eric understood that he couldn’t help the little girl, and she hadn’t wanted him to try. In fact, she seemed angered by his attempt and legitimately appalled that he’d placed Lila’s life in jeopardy to do so. She fixed him with incredulous eyes before taking another step back. The crowd swelled around her, swallowing her like the rising tide.

  Despite the mass of people that flooded between Eric and the girl, he still managed to keep her in view. Much to his chagrin, he saw several monsters moving through the crowd. Their cold, lifeless eyes, as dark as anthracite, radiated bloodlust. They showed neither fear nor any capacity for mercy—only an insatiable hunger. Powerless to intervene, Eric watched the horrific scene unfold before him.

  The first zombie that reached the little girl pulled her to the ground with ease; she didn’t even struggle. In a matter of moments, several others piled atop her as though she were a fumbled football at the end of a big play. Eric wanted more than anything to look away, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact. If he couldn’t save her, the least he could do was give her the dignity of knowing she wasn’t completely alone in her darkest moment. He wanted her to know that her life mattered and that he gave a damn about what was happening to her even if he c
ouldn’t stop it. Lila, on the other hand, didn’t need to bear witness to the girl’s fate, and he did his best to shield the heinous scene from her view. Even as he did, he knew it would be impossible to hide the horrors of the new world from her forever. For once, he was grateful for the crowd’s menacing din, which drowned out the zombies’ vicious snarls as they carried out their wicked work.

  For her part, the little girl never made a sound as the savage monsters tore into her. Her vacant eyes never flinched, never wavered. They were as emotionless as those of the zombies on top of her…almost. The eyes that met Eric’s gaze held something he found nearly as perplexing as her rejection of his offering of help. Were it possible for eyes to smile, that’s what they would’ve been doing. What he saw was the simple truth that being torn to shreds by zombies was less painful than continuing on in the face of the horrors she’d been forced to witness. His heart burrowed deeper into the abyss of this new world as a dark understanding blossomed in his mind. Death was sometimes easier than life.

  A massive spray of bright red blood exploded into the air like a geyser as a gray-haired zombie sank her teeth into the girl’s neck. The carotid artery…at least she won’t suffer for long. The girl’s skin turned ashen gray within seconds as her entire blood volume left her body in just a few short heartbeats. In the macabre game of tug-o-war that ensued, two other zombies fought for a length of intestines over her eviscerated body. As though bobbing for apples on Halloween, a zombie child dove in with bared teeth and plucked one of the girl’s eyes from its socket. Sinewy strands of nerve and muscle dangled from the organ as the monster raised its head, chewing triumphantly.

  It was over almost as quickly as it started. Having stripped her of all life, the zombies soon lost interest in her. One by one, they abandoned the quarry they’d fought so hard over, leaving only her ruined and lifeless corpse in their wake. Although hardly anything recognizable remained, Eric knew he would never forget the girl’s face or what had happened. It was horrible and heartbreaking, infuriating and confusing. To him, it seemed as though the zombies killed strictly for killing’s sake—behavior that was aberrant even for the most depraved animals of all: humans. Sure, humans killed one another all the time, but it was typically driven by some need: food, territorial defense, self-preservation. This had no purpose that he could see. The zombies didn’t even finish their meal before they were off to hunt the next victim. Only when he saw the first twitches of movement come from the little girl’s mutilated body did it start to make sense. Perhaps he was thinking about the situation on too large of a scale. Perhaps the need wasn’t the person’s—or what had been the person—but rather that of whatever diabolical entity was driving this new and terrifying iteration.

  When he could endure no more, Eric finally looked away. Enraged by what he’d seen and his inability to stop it, he wanted to scream and cry. He wanted to destroy every one of the monsters that had ravaged the beautiful little girl. Every ounce of pain and suffering they had inflicted upon her he wanted to reciprocate upon them tenfold. Unfortunately, he could do none of it. All he could do was choke back the bile rising in his gorge as he stared through tear-stained eyes. That, and fight like hell to keep Lila from succumbing to the same fate. Sensing he was about nine hundred yards into his own thousand-yard stare, Eric willed himself back into action.

  “Let’s go,” Eric said, his words sounding strained as they wriggled past the enormous lump that had formed in his throat.

  Lila hadn’t seen everything he had, and judging from her father’s grim demeanor, she was thankful for the omission. If she thought his face had been dour before, it paled in comparison to the doleful expression she saw when he turned toward the riotous mob now swarming between them and the park’s exit. Any small window of opportunity they’d had was long gone, devoured by the mayhem that had been right behind them up until the moment when he stopped to do the right thing. In that split second, the wave had crashed over them.

  4

  A quick look in every direction yielded a nearly identical vista—panic and pain, people and predators. Eric knew there were four routes leading in and out of the circle but not a single one was distinguishable. A faint glimmer of hope flared when he saw a clearing to his right. With considerable effort, he and Lila fought their way to the edge. Only then did the reason for the clearing become apparent.

  A lake, several hundred yards wide, wrapped around a small island—Adventure Island. Miniscule waves lapped against the shore, the tranquil water oblivious to humanity’s struggles. The previous day, Eric, Melanie, and Lila had crossed the narrow body of water aboard a ferry and spent a large part of the afternoon exploring the island’s nooks and crannies. In the distance, it looked every bit like the refuge one might expect from an island. A few people gathered on the island’s shore appeared to have taken notice of the commotion in the park, but the majority went about exploring as though all were right with the world.

  Eric scanned the water and saw the ferry moored at the dock on the far side of the lake. Damn it. Even if they could make it that far, the commotion on the dock gave him serious reservations about doing so. He watched as people moved frantically in every direction. Several fights broke out in the crowd, and he couldn’t tell if the zombies had made it that far or if it was just scared people fighting for their lives. The tourists on the dock continued pressing forward, filling the ferry well beyond capacity and knocking several people into the water in the process.

  Modified to look like an oversized wooden raft, the pontoon boat dipped lower in the water under the excess weight. Its engines, which had been idling, suddenly roared to life with a throaty growl. Although it was far away, Eric looked toward the captain’s chair and thought he saw the reason for the change. A man dressed in overalls and a straw hat was slumped over the controls, which glistened in the dying light as though they were covered in oil. He thought he knew what had happened to the man even before he saw the zombie pull away from the lifeless body.

  “My God,” Eric gasped.

  The large boat surged forward, drawing the mooring line taut. With only a single line attached, the boat veered sharply to the side before the loosely secured rope finally pulled free. Although it was no racing boat, the sudden release caused it to lurch forward with surprising speed, sending several more people overboard. The straining engines and agonized screams told Eric everything that the dark water hid from view. Feeling nauseated, he looked away and tried to clear the mental image from his mind. As such, he didn’t see the boat run aground less than fifty yards away, and he didn’t see the zombies board like marauders before tearing into the marooned passengers. With no way to get there, the island no longer looked like the safe haven it had moments ago. Eric lowered his head in defeat, as the unspeakable sounds closed in behind them.

  “Why don’t we just swim across?” Lila said in a tone oozing with the obviousness of her question.

  Eric’s head shot up, and she noticed a light burning in his eyes once again. “You’re a genius,” he exclaimed.

  Hand in hand, Eric and Lila waded into the calm, dark water. Normally the thought of being unable to see anything that might be lurking beneath the inky, blackness would’ve been unsettling, but not today. That, along with countless other unfounded “fears,” had met an untimely demise the moment the first zombie snarled in his direction. Although he wasn’t entirely sure, he didn’t think zombies could swim. The question made him wish he’d been more of a George Romero fan. I can’t remember anything from zombie movies except “BRAIINNNNS!” and “shoot ’em in the head.”

  Now, Eric’s primary concern was slipping into the water quietly and undetected. The last thing he wanted to do was lure any of the mainland’s chaos to the island—living or undead. When they were submerged up to their necks, Eric raised a finger to his lips, a signal for Lila to swim quietly. They dogpaddled slowly, taking care not to splash or stir up much wake. As the sun had now completely set, their movement was largely obscured by darkne
ss. Light from several streetlamps burning along both shores reflected across the still water, and they did their best to navigate around the beams.

  After what seemed like an hour, Eric’s feet finally made contact with the lake’s slimy bottom. They’d maneuvered away from the part of the island where the trail meandered close to the shore, so there was no one was in sight. His legs ached from the constant kicking as he slowly trudged out of the water. A light breeze blew against his wet clothes, forcing a violent shiver. Lila trailed behind him wearily. Her teeth chattered behind her quivering lips, which were chilled to a deep purple in the pale moonlight. The night was cool, but being soaked to the bone made it absolutely frigid.

  “W-w-we need to find somewhere safe to warm up,” Eric said. As he spoke, he pointed a shaking finger toward a tall, stone structure silhouetted against the night sky. An old lighthouse, meant to serve as a guiding light for wayward seamen, peered out above the trees in the distance. A bright, rotating light cast its beam across the land.

  Relative to the rest of the park, the island was as quiet as a grave. In fact, the overriding sound was that of the madness resounding ominously across the water from the distant mainland. Before today, Eric had never really considered there to be different types of screams. Pain, rage, fear, hunger, and confusion could all elicit a different sound—each one a gut-wrenching variation on a central theme of agony and suffering. His wife, Melanie, had always possessed a knack for identifying birds based on their song alone, and he imagined it wouldn’t be long before he would be able to discern the emotion behind every scream that tore across his eardrum. It wasn’t a skill he was excited to acquire.