Fun World Read online

  Hoping for a more subtle escape, he wanted to avoid simply shattering the glass panes. Rusty and stiff from years of neglect, the window latch required considerable effort to unlock. As the old window clearly hadn’t been opened for many years, the weathered hinges put up a similar struggle. Finally, with a screech like that of a bird of prey swooping in for the kill, the hinges broke free and the window began to move. The sound of metal grinding against metal was unbelievably loud, and he assumed everyone and everything with ears on the island heard the noise as loudly as a dinner bell. With a final determined shove, he forced the window open widely and then turned to Lila.

  “Come on. We need to move fast before those monsters come to investigate the noise.”

  Lila leaned in toward the door as if to say one last thing to the zombies outside, then raced to his side. Eric hoisted her up and out the open window before climbing out after her. Crouching on the dew-soaked ground outside left him feeling exceptionally exposed. For a moment, he wondered if he’d made a mistake by placing them in such a vulnerable situation. Snarls echoing from the building’s opposite side served to reiterate his question, while simultaneously spurring him to action.

  Beyond a grassy clearing about fifteen yards ahead was a densely overgrown wooded area. Nestled between the lighthouse and the shore, it would provide the perfect cover as they made their way toward the water’s edge. They sprinted across the well-manicured grass toward the tree line and then ducked into the vegetation, disappearing before any of the lighthouse zombies came into view. Moving with as much stealth as possible, they crept through the undergrowth toward the waterline. The world was eerily quiet, making the snap of every twig and the rustle of every leaf sound like an alarm intent on alerting the monsters lurking nearby.

  When the water’s edge finally came into view just beyond a narrow walking trail directly ahead, they paused to survey the area. There were no zombies in sight and no sound of clumsy footsteps traipsing through the forest behind them. Somewhere in the distance, a bloodcurdling cry pierced the morning air, slicing through it like a knife. The lake’s still, glassy surface sent the terrible sound bouncing in all directions, making it virtually impossible to tell from which direction it actually originated. Though he wasn’t sure, Eric thought it had come from the island rather than the mainland. Filled with wordless pleading, the agonizing screams quickly devolved into a wet, choking gurgle, as though the owner was drowning in his or her own blood. A moment later, the world fell silent once again. He tried not to think about what that meant.

  Eric wrapped his arm around Lila’s head and pulled her tightly to his chest. If he could’ve erased the unsettling memory from her mind, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. Even if such a thing were possible, he understood its futility, as there was sure to be no shortage of horrible memories to be made in this vile new world. The best he could hope for was to somehow keep a shred of her humanity alive through the ordeal—assuming he succeeded in keeping the rest of her alive first.

  Having seen the ferry crash on the far shore, Eric scanned the shoreline in search of another boat they could use to cross back to the mainland. He didn’t relish the idea of getting back into the icy water, but there was no boat for as far as he could see. Just when he’d resigned himself to swimming back across the frigid lake, he saw something that gave him an idea. Floating just off the shore about thirty yards to the left was a shaky pontoon bridge. Made up of a series of interconnected floats, the roughly twenty-five foot bridge spanned a narrow cove as it led to a small landing upon which sat an old, wooden capstan wheel. Guests could turn the wheel in order to hoist a treasure chest out of the nearby water. He recalled a pirate’s skeletal remains clinging to the trunk and couldn’t help but wonder if one day soon there might be something far scarier hiding beneath the water’s surface. Can zombies live underwater? Live? What the hell am I talking about? Do they even live at all?

  Eric’s thoughts drifted back to the present, as his gaze settled on the small building located just past the capstan near the water’s edge. Though it looked like a rundown pirate shanty, he recalled seeing the sign posted inconspicuously on the building indicating that it was in fact a maintenance shed in disguise. Being unaware of the building’s utilitarian purpose during his previous visit to the island, his curiosity had led him to try the door, which he’d found to be locked at the time. Now, with a rudimentary plan in mind, he hoped they could cover the short distance to the building and somehow gain access to the structure without being spotted by any of the zombies he imagined were lurking in the surrounding woods. So frazzled was his mind that every branch creaking in the wind and every shadow cast by passing clouds felt like the beginning of the next zombie wave.

  Eric paused at the trail’s edge, listening for any sign of danger. Now that the agonal screams had faded away, he heard nothing. Though he’d yet to share the details of his plan with Lila, he turned to her and said, “Come on. I think I know how we can get back across the lake without swimming.”

  As she, too, had been dreading the feel of the icy water, his words caused her to smile broadly. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to warm him to the core. Without making a sound, he crouched low as he emerged from cover. Traveling along the rough, finished trail was far easier than navigating the thick underbrush, and they moved quickly and quietly.

  When the building came into view, Eric was surprised to see that the door stood slightly ajar. Given that he hadn’t yet figured out how he was going to get past the locked door, he was relieved initially. Although his first inclination was to grab Lila’s hand and make a break to the shed, the cautious voice of reason in his head gave him pause. If I can get inside so easily, so can anything else. Images of reaching hands and monstrous faces lunging out of shadowy recesses made him seriously question whether he even wanted to go inside the little building. Despite the risk, he couldn’t see a better alternative. The building, or rather what he hoped to find inside, was key to his plan. Without some way to free a section of the bridge’s pontoon floats that could be used as a makeshift raft, they would be forced to swim back across the lake to the park’s mainland. Not having eaten in over a day and working on very little sleep, he wasn’t sure if he, much less Lila, even had the stamina to make such a swim. With this in mind, he steeled his nerves and sidled cautiously toward the foreboding structure.

  Eric signaled for Lila to hide in a nearby stand of bushes before he made his way around to the front of the maintenance shed. Standing in front of the open door, he didn’t see or hear anything to indicate that anyone—alive or undead—was inside. A thin beam of light slipped through the cracked door, but it was hardly enough to illuminate the room’s murky depths. There was no sound aside from the occasional creaking of the wooden structure shifting with the water’s undulations. Despite the lack of any definitive evidence pointing to a legitimate threat, the entire situation was creepy as hell, and the prospect of entering the gloomy shack left him feeling more than a little unnerved.

  After observing the building for another moment, Eric crept forward heedfully, his body pressed against the shed’s front wall. CREAK! The sound of the decking board shifting under his weight was deafening and sent panic surging through his veins. Holding his breath, he waited for the baleful reply of the zombies he was sure he’d alerted, but none came. His heart pounded so intensely that he imagined Lila could hear it from her position in the bushes. Holy shit! I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Yesterday when I heard the zombies moan, at least I knew where they were. For all I know, one could be anywhere in there. Eric wondered if the monsters made sounds constantly or if they remained quiet until spurred into action? The latter thought made the silence seem all the more terrifying. He took his next steps with considerable caution, trying to time each footfall to coincide with the building’s innate sounds.

  A second later, Lila watched intently as her father disappeared through the building’s doorway. Although she knew he was still close by, t
he fact that she could no longer see him left her feeling very much alone. Kneeling in the bushes, her sense of isolation was compounded by the pervasive silence that enveloped her like a blanket. The idea that something could be so completely filled with nothing struck her as rather strange. So quiet was the world around her that she wanted to scream just to be sure she still possessed the capacity for hearing. She imagined how horrifying it would be to be the last living person on the planet, a distinction she knew some poor soul would someday hold. A wave of coldness flooded through her body, causing her to shiver suddenly as if struck by an icy breeze despite the fact that the air was motionless at the time. Lila pulled her arms tightly to her chest and tried not to think about the danger her father might be facing.

  Eric slipped through the open door, stepped out of the light, and crouched down in the shadows to give his eyes time to adjust to the dimly lit surroundings. With his stick held in front of him defensively, he scanned the inky void around him. The sinister ambience combined with the lack of detail made it all but impossible to keep his imagination from running wild. Every shadow looked like a monster poised to strike; every minuscule noise sounded like the unmitigated harbinger of certain death. Focusing on his breathing, he looked past what he truly wanted to see in order to make use of the part of the eye best suited for night vision.

  One by one, the nebulous beings in Eric’s mind receded back into the darkness as the details of the building’s interior became more apparent. Turning to the wall adjacent to the doorway, he felt for a light switch. Although he wasn’t even sure if the power was even on, he’d hoped to turn on the lights and close the door once he was inside, but the switch was nowhere to be found. He cursed the park’s designers who seemed to overlook no detail when it came to maintaining the fairy-tale illusion and mystique of the park but who apparently couldn’t manage to put a light switch in the usual location near the room’s entrance. As much as it scared the shit out of him, he realized he was going to have work in the dark. What I wouldn’t give for a flashlight right about now… He considered pulling out his phone and turning the light on but he wanted to save every last bit of battery life to try calling Melanie again.

  Running the length of the room along the far wall was a long workbench. Partially obscured by the low light, several tools dangled from a pegboard behind the workbench. To the left stood a row of full-length cabinets, while a large motor of some type occupied the floor space to his right. The smell of used oil and greasy metal hung thickly in the air.

  Ever vigilant, Eric stayed low to the ground as he advanced toward the long table. Only when he was within arm’s reach of the items hanging above the workbench could he begin to discern their distinct shapes. Wrenches, screwdrivers, and many other tools he couldn’t name adorned the wall. Carefully scanning each one as he passed, he moved along the length of the bench. When he neared the end and still hadn’t found what he was looking for, he began to worry that he’d risked venturing into the unlit building for nothing. Worse still, without a way to cut a section of the bridge’s pontoons loose, he and Lila would be forced to brave the ice cold water in order to make it back to the mainland. Not relishing that thought, he took one more step to investigate the last couple feet of wall space before abandoning his quest. Although he didn’t hold out much hope, his heart soared when the thing he’d been searching for finally came into view. Unfortunately, a strong breeze chose that moment to blow the door almost entirely closed, cutting off the meager light source that he had. With all his attention focused on where he’d seen the heavy-duty, twenty-four inch bolt cutter, he hardly noticed anything else inside the now almost pitch-black room.

  Heart pounding and palms sweating, Eric reached for the tool, hastily yanking it from its hanger. Prize in hand, he spun quickly, eager to escape the darkness and get back to Lila. To his surprise, something grabbed hold of his sleeve, stopping him dead in his tracks. Such was his exhaustion that he felt virtually powerless to fight whatever had ensnared him. Panic-stricken, he pulled away with all the muscle he could summon, but it wasn’t enough. Whatever held him resisted his efforts, and he braced for the biting pain he was certain he’d feel at any moment. In that instant, his mind flashed to Lila cowering alone in the bushes outside, and the thought sparked one last jolt of adrenaline.

  Unwilling to sacrifice the thing he’d risked his life for, Eric gripped the tool tightly as he heaved with every last ounce of strength he could muster. There was a tearing sound as something gave way in the dark, sending him staggering backward unexpectedly. Although he was free, he had no sense of his own body position, let alone that of his attacker. As such, he flailed his arms wildly in the hopes of landing a lucky strike that might save his life. When he made contact with something hard, the impact knocked him further off-balance.

  A moment later, a crash loud enough to wake the dead exploded inside the small building. The cacophonous din left Eric’s ears ringing, making it impossible to hear the hungry moans of the zombies he was sure were about to end his life. Unable to see, hear, or smell the monsters inside the cramped room, he felt as though his impending demise was a foregone conclusion. Once again, the thought of his little girl facing this harsh world alone gave him the motivation he needed to keep fighting for a little longer. As he continued his retreat toward the door, his foot snagged something concealed in the dark, causing him to topple head over heels. There was a sickening thud like that of a baseball bat thumping a pumpkin as his head slammed against the hard concrete floor. Lightning bursts erupted behind his eyelids, and being mildly concussed for the second time in just two days, his muddled brain thought it strange that they would still put on the nightly firework show even during the zombie apocalypse.

  As the cobwebs began to clear from his head yet again, Eric scrambled to get back to his feet. Before he’d taken a step, a searing pain tore through his right leg as something dug deeply into the soft flesh of his shin. Immediately, his ankle felt warm and wet, and even in the dark he knew what it was.

  “Son of a bitch!” Eric growled.

  Even compared to the throbbing pain in his head, that which emanated from his leg was immense. Like most people, he’d had his fair share of bumps, bruises, and cuts throughout his life, but this was deeper and more intense than anything he could recall. Despite not having seen the culprit, his mind offered him a terrifying glimpse of the snarling monster that had sunk its teeth into the meat of his leg. He envisioned lifeless, uncaring eyes staring out vacantly from its skeletal head as the thing bared its vile teeth menacingly, almost smiling at what it had done.

  Eric imagined that was why it hurt more. It wasn’t because of fear, or adrenaline, or the fact that he hadn’t been expecting it. It was because it was a zombie bite. It was because of whatever evil such a thing transmitted. The panic he felt coupled with his aching body seemed to intensify the pain, and he worried he might already be experiencing the first signs of his transformation. Once again, he thought of Lila, and he wondered how long he had before he would become a danger to her. Do I have enough time to get her out of the park? Do I even have enough time to help her get off the island? He didn’t know the answers to these questions, and he began to consider trying to find other people that could help her survive this madness. That prospect didn’t sit well with him given that he wasn’t one to easily trust others.

  Having never been a zombie, Eric wasn’t sure how the transformation was supposed to feel, but one thing was clear—at that exact moment, he still felt more or less like himself, only with a fair amount of pain. With a grunt of frustration, he kicked hard, freeing his leg from the thing that had taken him down. He scurried away on his hands and knees before climbing to his feet and staggering toward the light seeping in through the cracked door. As he drew nearer, the room around him became increasingly detailed. He focused all his attention on the door in front of him, not daring to stop and glance over his shoulder. A second later, he emerged from the shadowy interior, yanking the door closed behind hi
m. It slammed loudly but he didn’t care. The need for stealth had long since passed by the wayside; now he needed to work with speed.

  Hobbling toward Lila with bolt cutter in hand, Eric tried not to let on that anything was wrong. Of course, his unnatural gait and blood-soaked pant leg did little to hide the fact that something had happened.

  “Daddy! Your leg…” Lila cried, emerging from the bushes and moving toward him with concern in her eyes.

  “I’m fine. Stay back,” he replied sternly. Not wanting to go into detail, he added, “Just, please, watch the door while I cut these floats free. Tell me if anything tries to get out.”

  Confused and unsettled by his brusque tone, Lila found his words even more concerning. Get out? What’s trying to get out? As soon as the question popped into her head, she felt silly for even thinking it. Of course she knew what would be trying to get out. Suddenly, her stomach dropped, and she turned to look at her father’s retreating form. The realization hit her like a train as she watched him hobbling on a blood-soaked leg. No! No! No! It can’t be… Lightheaded and nauseated, she slumped to the ground.