Fun World Read online

  Eric and Lila silently crept through the vegetation as they moved deeper into the island. They avoided the developed trails to minimize the chance of encountering other people. Keeping with its primitive theme, the island was generally darker than the rest of the park, with most lights confined to the walking trails. Eric had no idea if zombies had made it to the island, and he wasn’t entirely sure of all the potential ways of becoming infected. For that reason, he deemed it best to steer clear of everyone for the time being. Besides, he was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted—far too tired to run, and far too tired to fight.

  Although they encountered no one as they made their way toward the lighthouse, Eric wasn’t so naïve as to think they were alone or that they were no longer in danger. After all, he’d seen people on the island. At least, he hoped they had been people. The forest hummed with a subtle, unseen energy that made it seem like a living entity. Whether spurred by the wind or something more sinister, dark shadows danced ominously behind every tree. If there were people lurking in the gloom, it seemed clear that they wanted to avoid contact just as much he did. As the old lighthouse loomed larger before them, he hoped no one had already taken refuge there.

  Crouching in the bushes adjacent to the lighthouse path, they saw no indication of life or death. Eric asked Lila to stay hidden and keep watch for anyone or anything while he surveyed the building. He was simultaneously relieved and crestfallen when he found the heavy, wooden door securely closed. Given that it was the only way into the tall, narrow structure and was locked from the outside, he doubted anyone was inside. Standing between him and the potential safe haven was a commercial-grade padlock that looked like it would give a trained locksmith a run for his money. Fortunately, it was attached to a vintage hasp that barely looked capable of supporting the heavy lock’s weight. It was loud, but he pried the screws out of the aged wood with minimal effort. Like a banshee screeching through the night, the rusty hinges groaned loudly as he opened the door. He held his breath as he waited for a reply; none came.

  When it seemed safe, Eric motioned for Lila to join him, and once inside, he slid a heavy wooden slat between the metal bars over the adjacent window and the door’s handle. If anyone really wanted in, he doubted they would have much trouble with the barricade, but it would be enough to keep any errant zombies from wandering in during the night. He considered setting up a makeshift perimeter alarm but decided that the door’s hinges were loud enough to wake the dead as it was.

  Slowly and with considerable effort, they mounted the four flights of stairs to the top of the old lighthouse. It was cold inside the poorly insulated, block and mortar structure, but at least it offered protection from the biting wind. The moonlight filtering in through the windows was just enough to light their path. On the way up, they pilfered a couple of musty wool blankets and several burlap sacks that were part of a historical display. Although it wasn’t incredibly high, the top floor landing provided an excellent view of the surrounding area. The rotating beam they’d seen from the ground was now dark and still, leading Eric to surmise it was on a timer. They moved close to the small Fresnel lens in the center of the room, holding their hands out to absorb the last of its heat. Across the lake in the park, lights flickered here and there, making it almost seem like just another night. Had either of them actually believed that, the glow of a fire blazing in the distance ensured them that it was anything but.

  Eric and Lila removed their wet clothes and hung them over the railing to dry before bundling up in the old blankets. A double layer of burlap provided their feet with additional warmth. The strong mildew smell would’ve been repulsive any other time, but under the circumstances, the accompanying heat took precedence. Huddled next to one another, they slowly began to feel as though they were thawing out.

  “Daddy, is Mommy ok?” asked Lila as she cuddled up in his arms.

  Eric was thankful for the deep shadows that obscured the pain plainly etched upon his face. In truth, he had no idea how Melanie was faring. He’d tried to call her several times but hadn’t been able to reach her since the world decided to go tits up. She had certainly looked like hell warmed over when they’d left her that morning. Even so, feeling like a steaming pile of shit in the safety of a comfortable hotel room sounded like a dream compared to slumping on a cold, dirty floor in the epicenter of this hellish nightmare. As much as he hated that she was sick, he prayed that her illness had been her salvation—that all this madness hadn’t reached her. Part of him wanted to laugh in his face for even entertaining such idealistic optimism in light of everything he’d witnessed. He did his level best to ignore that part of his brain, focusing instead on the faintest glimmer of hope still smoldering in the recesses of his mind.

  Steadying his voice, he replied, “Yes, sweetie. Mommy’s fine. She’s safe and sound back at the hotel. But I bet she’s pissed at me for keeping you out so late.” He forced a chuckle that came out sounding more like the whimper of a dying dog.

  Even to his own ears, his words sounded as fake and hollow as the plywood façade he’d crashed through earlier in the day. While he earnestly hoped that what he’d said was true, he hoped even more that Lila hadn’t picked up on the thinly veiled uncertainty in his voice. She’d been through so much already, and he didn’t want to add the stress of worrying about her mother. That she was holding up so well was a small miracle as it was. Destroying her steadfast composure could spell death in their current situation. Eric breathed a sigh a relief when she seemed to accept his answer at face value.

  After a pause, Lila asked, “Is this the end of the world, Daddy?” Her voice was heavy with impending sleep.

  She’s obviously not going to let me off easily. Given the intensity of the day’s events, Eric hadn’t had a chance to do much more than try to keep them alive. Now, reflecting on everything that had happened, he realized he couldn’t honestly answer her question. It was a frightening thought but one that he couldn’t completely dismiss. He struggled to find words that wouldn’t offer too much false hope nor cause her any undue anxiety.

  Was there even a word in the English language with a duality that covered two seemingly mutually exclusive sentiments? The word that kept popping up in his mind was “maybe,” but that didn’t seem like much of an answer. Still unsure of his reply, he opened his mouth to speak before noticing that Lila had fallen fast asleep in his arms. He said a small prayer of thanks for her much-needed rest, and for not being forced to stumble through the answers to any of her difficult questions.

  Eric pulled his phone from his pocket and was relieved to see that the waterproof pouch designed to protect it from any of the park’s various water rides had kept it safe during the lake crossing. He winced at the phone’s low-battery warning as he dialed his wife’s number once again, and once again the uncaring man informed him that all circuits were busy. He disconnected the call, letting the phone fall to his side. Come on; please hold on long enough for me to talk to Melanie. He didn’t know if God bothered with such trivialities, but he said a quick prayer on his phone’s behalf just in case.

  For a brief moment, the world was almost quiet, save for a group of bullfrogs croaking somewhere nearby. It was the first time he’d been able to catch his breath since everything went to shit, and he used the time to take stock of the day events. It seemed inconceivable that Fun World—the proverbial home of magic, joy, wonderment, and basically everything good—could be transformed into the veritable epicenter of hell in so little time. While he’d used the very same moniker to describe the park the day before, it had been in a largely figurative sense. Now, it was truer than anything he’d ever known. Where there had been magic, there was only misery; where there had been dreams, there was only death. And joy—it didn’t stand an ice cube’s chance in hell in the new Fun World.

  Eric didn’t sleep a wink that night. With the day’s horrors playing through his mind on an endless loop, he wondered if he would ever be able to sleep again. Instead, he kept vigila
nt watch over his little girl. A sliver of pale moonlight illuminated her angelic face. He tried to focus on the sound of her gentle breathing, which stood in stark contrast to the zombies’ ravenous snarls echoing across the water. Even the bullfrogs fell silent in response to the bone-chilling sound. He did his best to block out the noise as he thought more about Lila’s question. He didn’t know what was happening nor how it would all turn out, but he couldn’t imagine the world ever being the same after what he’d witnessed. Was some sort of previously unknown infectious disease dredged up from the nether regions of the world and brought to the park by some unsuspecting visitor to blame? Maybe it was an extraterrestrial phenomenon; it certainly wasn’t like anything the world had ever seen before. Perhaps it was some sort of drug or chemical that had been intentionally unleashed upon the oblivious masses. Could anyone be that truly evil? Did such an agent even exist? Endless theories swirled through his mind, each one sounding crazier than the last. As far as he knew, this was only the beginning. He tried to imagine the sun rising over a world that was normal once again, but the intermittent screams of agony and the hungry moans mocked the very idea.

  Just when Eric felt that slumber was about to get the upper hand, he was jolted awake by an intriguing new sound. Seemingly from every direction, the rat-a-tat-tat of automatic-weapons fire tore through the air. Lila stirred but did not wake. He lowered her head to the ground before crawling over to the lighthouse’s grimy windows. Peering outside, he saw a thousand brilliant bursts of light scattered throughout the park. Muzzle flashes… Someone was fighting back, and from the sound of it, they were playing for keeps. Eric’s smile widened as his hope surged, bolstered by each thunderous crack. As he watched, the scene shifted dramatically when the background light disappeared, leaving only that of the gunshots to light the night sky like an army of ravenous fireflies. What the hell? Did the power just go out? I suppose it makes sense from a tactical advantage, assuming those things can’t see in the dark any better than us.

  The assault stretched on throughout most of the night before falling silent a couple of hours before dawn. Isolated pops and cracks continued echoing through the early morning air before they, too, fell silent. The entire experience reminded Eric of microwave popcorn popping—the frenetic barrage of so many kernels eagerly exploding all at once before ultimately giving way to a few late bloomers that sounded off alone before going completely quiet. His stomach growled loudly at the thought of popcorn, and he wondered if he was losing his mind. He was so tired…and so hungry.

  Throughout it all, Lila’s rhythmic breaths continued, unfazed by the chaos of the world outside the lighthouse’s walls. Eric stroked her hair gently, hoping her slumber wasn’t marred by the nightmarish images of the monsters they’d encountered earlier. Judging by the stillness of her form, he imagined it was not.

  When exhaustion finally caught up with him, his eyelids felt as though they weighed a hundred pounds. He let loose a huge yawn that seemed to start at his feet and course through his entire body. He shook his head, hoping to break free from sleep’s tenacious grasp, but it seemed as inevitable as a zombie attack.

  The ringing sound that shattered the silence a moment later took Eric by surprise. Like the name of an acquaintance he couldn’t recall, the source of the noise was familiar albeit just beyond his recognition. He stared at Lila, still sleeping, as though she might be responsible for the ringing. For her part, she didn’t budge in response to the sound. All of a sudden, he remembered his cell phone and reached into his pocket to retrieve the device. After so many failed attempts to reach Melanie, he’d nearly forgotten it.

  Fumbling with the phone, Eric looked at the screen eagerly. Relief flooded his body when he recognized Melanie’s number.

  “Hello, Melanie? How are you? Is everything okay there? Honey, are you there? Lila and I are safe for the time being. We…”

  Eric spoke fast for fear that he might lose the connection he’d waited so long to get. He paused for a moment but heard no response. The dead air on the other end of the line was unsettling and seemed to stretch out into eternity. When he could no longer endure the silence, he said, “Melanie?”

  The word—part question, part plea—felt more like an answer that he already knew but had not yet accepted. A reply that sounded like a snarling tiger suffering from laryngitis nearly made his heart implode. Although his brain tried to block it out, he recognized the sound, and he knew what it meant. Unable to speak or even breathe, he merely shook his head in disbelief. The snarls coming from the other end of the line continued until he heard something even more unnerving.

  “Errrricccc,” the zombie voice called softly, letting the word stretch out until it disappeared into the ether. “Errrrriccc.” Drenched with bad intentions, the hollow, wraithlike whisper was the most terrifying thing he’d ever heard, and he shivered involuntarily at the ice water feeling it sent coursing through his veins.

  “What the fuck? Z-zombies can’t talk,” Eric muttered in confusion.

  “Errrrriccccc.”

  The horrifying sound grew louder, as though the person, or thing, on the phone was drawing closer. Panicked, Eric raised his head and found Lila craning her neck in his direction, teeth bared in a menacing snarl. Her hissing rasp and black, lifeless eyes conveyed a singular, insatiable need. He wanted to scream. He wanted to strike her, to make her stop. The stick was clutched in his hand, yet he was powerless to raise it against his daughter—or the thing that used to be his daughter. Everything about her was wrong now.

  Paralyzed with fear, Eric watched helplessly as Lila’s teeth sank deep into his shoulder. He waited for the mind-numbing pain to overtake him, but it never came. Hands clawed at his flesh, grabbing and shaking him. All of a sudden, the invisible bonds that had left him defenseless vanished, and he flailed his arms wildly. Heart pounding and breaths coming in ragged gulps, he raised the club to strike. In a moment of hesitation, however, several things registered in his addled brain.

  Rays of early morning sun tore the first rents in the blanket of darkness enshrouding the room. Lila was huddled against the far wall, her blue eyes filled with fear. Blue, not black; fear, not hunger. Cell phone still in hand, he started to raise it to his ear but stopped when he read the display.

  No Service.

  “Daddy, please stop. You were just having a bad dream,” Lila pleaded. Her familiar voice sliced through the last remaining cobwebs surrounding Eric’s brain, and he dropped the bat instantly. Moving to where she was sitting, he crouched down and pulled her into a warm embrace. For an instant, he considered telling her about his dream but thought better of it. It had been too horrible to repeat. Instead, he held her tightly in silence as they watched the sun rise.

  Eric had always found great peace and tranquility in the moments just before sunrise; it had long been his favorite time of day. Now, as he watched the sun ushering in the new day, he wanted more than anything to believe it brought with it an end to yesterday’s terrors. For the briefest of moments, he almost convinced himself that it might be true. In the depths of his heart, however, Eric believed that what it truly brought was a beginning—a beginning to a terrible chapter he could only hope humanity would survive.

  As the sun continued to rise above the distant horizon, Eric thought about the circumstances that had brought them to the lighthouse in the first place. It had been out of necessity, really. The madness on the mainland had forced them onto the island, while the cold and darkness had routed them to the lighthouse. It was certainly safer and warmer than anywhere else they’d been since the beginning of the outbreak. It also happened to be the farthest away from the park’s exit, and from Melanie. In that moment, Eric understood that getting back to his wife and getting his family out of the park meant heading back to Fun World’s mainland. Yesterday had started out like a shit sandwich without the bread and had ended even worse. Now, the idea that heading back into the zombie-infested wasteland somehow increased their odds of survival nearly made him laugh
out loud. Instead, he kissed the top of Lila’s head. She smiled genuinely, and despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile back.

  5

  Eric rubbed his bleary eyes, hoping to clear the last cobwebs of his brief, fitful sleep. He walked over to the railing and was happy to find their clothes were dry for the most part. Not wanting to be without the warmth of the blanket for too long, he pulled his clothes off the railing and dressed hastily. Crossing the room, he handed Lila her clothes.

  While she dressed, Eric stared vacantly at the floor and thought about the battle that had taken place overnight. It started out with such gusto and, for a time, it had been fierce. At first, nearly all that could be heard were the percussive cracks of gunfire—loud, powerful, and filled with hope. As the fighting raged on, guttural moans and cries of pain provided a macabre counterpoint, filling in the breaks in the staccato popping of small arms fire. The contrasting sounds wove around one another—indeed through one another—like a fugue played by Satan’s symphony until the terrible moans gradually became the dominant motif. As the night wore on and the intense barrage of firepower dwindled, so, too, did Eric’s hope for a quick resolution to the nightmare. In the end, hope was not recapitulated; rather, the night’s coda was marked by death and despair.