by Aline Riva
“Remember what I said,” he warned them, “Leave the talking to me.” Then he activated the shutters and they began to rise as the fading light crept in as the barrier rose up, letting in the early evening light and the first glimpse of a group of armed men who stood outside waiting.
John led the way as the others followed him out. As they took in the sight of the armed men, alarm registered on their faces – because they could not see the faces of the men sent by Flint, they all wore metallic masks in a dull shade of silver.
“Flint says you have to come to town and explain your actions,” said the largest, heaviest man who carried a shotgun.
“Fine,” John replied, “I can explain – and speak for these people here, too.”
The door was opened up and the van was dark inside.
“Get in,” the masked man ordered, and John cast him an angry glare and then obeyed as the others followed.
As the doors closed and they were plunged into darkness, Greg felt Zodiac grip his hand tightly.
“I have suspicions,” the boy said, “What if Flint told them to kill us?”
“That won't happen,” Greg assured him, then he fell silent as he hoped he had not lied to his son as the van drove away, carrying the group towards the town known as Circus.
The journey was short, there was a brief pause as the gates to the town were opened, then the vehicles drove through with the armoured car leading the way. There was another long straight run, then a couple of turns and then the van went onward once more, finally slowing to a halt as sounds of a fairground at night drifted in through the closed doors.
When the back of the van was opened up, it was dark outside but the lights from the fairground and the arcades were blazing. There was a smell of popcorn and hot dogs on the sea air and it was a warm night filled with laugher and music drifting and the rush of rides turning and twisting... along with a vague stink of the undead, a smell that seemed to have no place here, yet it was noticeable...
“Out,” the masked man ordered. John got out first and the others followed, as John turned to the leader he looked into his eyes, undeterred by the intimidating mask the man wore.
“We used to be friends in the old world. What happened?”
“It ended,” the man replied, “Everything has changed now. Maybe if you accepted that you could be doing a job like mine.”
“If I did a job like yours I wouldn't hide behind a mask. It wouldn't be like this at all if I ran the town.”
“And you had your chance,” he reminded him, “And you lost. Now, I must take you to Flint. This way...”
He led the group through the gates of the busy fairground. As they walked up the path with more guards behind them, very few locals noticed the presence of strangers as they enjoyed side shows and sought out thrills on rollercoasters and waltzers and slammed into each other on the dodgem cars. This was just like a fair from before the apocalypse – but with one difference: Severed zombie parts were fixed to posts and pillars and even over the entrances to some of the attractions, hands flexed, severed heads shuddered and arms and legs hung suspended still writhing. As they looked about the place Marc silently concluded the only reason the stink was vague was thanks to the open air setting and the freshness of the corpses...
As they neared the circus tent, Alex turned around and held out his arms in wonder at the sight that greeted him as the helter skelter looked colourful and decorated with lights.
“The wisest creature in this wonderland!” he exclaimed.
“And you can speak to it after you've seen Flint,” the armed man reminded him.
Vicki turned her head, looking in disgust at a side show. It was a shooting gallery, where men lined up with real bullets to hit severed zombie heads. Beside it was another attraction – the sickest game of whack a mole she had ever seen as the zombies randomly rose up to their necks from beneath a table where their heads came up and went back down again randomly. As another head came up, the player slammed down a wooden mallet and the skull cracked and blood spattered and brains spilled out.
“A prize for that one!” declared the woman who ran the side show, and as the man wiped bloody hands on his jeans, the young woman standing beside him smiled as she was handed a goldfish in a sealed bag.
“This is sick...” Vicki whispered as she turned and looked at Marc.
He nodded in agreement, he too had looked about the place and drawn the same conclusion. Now he understood what Alex had meant when he had said the zombies were brought in and put to good use...
“Something is definitely not right here,” he said in a low voice.
But the man leading the way called to them, urging them to hurry, and they obeyed, catching up with the others and walking down a path that led away from, and then to the back of the circus tent, where caravans were parked.
They were led up to a caravan that had a star on the door and the name Carla, but a man stood in the doorway and he stayed there, looking down on the visitors and then turning his attention to John.
“You fired on my men? Explain!”
“Your men were up in that watch tower shooting at a kid!” he said angrily, “I wasn't going to sit back and watch that happen!”
The man in the showman's attire ran his gaze over the gathered strangers, then he looked in fascination at Zodiac.
“Oh this is a surprise! You have a half dead!”
“A what?” Greg's eyes narrowed as he glared at Flint.
“Easy,” John warned, speaking low as he shot him a glance.
“It's what some call the children of virus infected parents. He's a rare one. There are not many of these children around... “ he forced a smile, “No offense intended. I take it by the murderous look you just gave me that boy is your son?”
“He is my son,” Greg confirmed, still with a look of murder in his eyes.
In that moment Flint felt something he rarely ever did on meeting a newcomer– there would be a real threat with this half dead's father if he wasn't careful... he would have to play this down. He already had plans for these strangers, but first, he would try and make then feel at home - at least until they realised they would not be permitted to leave again...
Flint stepped down from the caravan. He looked to Alex first.
“Good to have you back. I'm not too impressed that you keep running off but I always had a soft spot in my heart for you, crazy old bastard! Off you go – pay that helter skelter a visit.”
“I shall do that right away!” Alex said enthusiastically and as he hurried off, it came as a surprise to the others to see a flicker of affection in Flint's eyes as he watched him leave.
“Poor bastard,” he added, “Went mad after his wife and kids died in an accident. But he's lived in this town all his life, he belongs here with us...” then he looked to the group who stood before him.
“John, you said the boy was shot by someone from the watchtower, is that right?”
John nodded.
Flint gave a sigh and looked to the armed men who now stood beside them.
“Who shot the kid?” he demanded.
One of the masked men who stood at the back now came forward.
“I didn't know it was a kid... it looked freaky, I thought maybe some kind albino midget...”
“And you thought it would be fun to take a shot at it?”
The guy shrugged.
“why not?”
“Because you shot a kid!” Flint stated, drawing his gun and firing a shot that hit the man dead centre of his brow, the bullet punched through the mask as he fell heavily, then blood began to pour from beneath the mask. Flint glanced to the other men.
“Take this mess away. I have no more need for your services tonight, thank you.”
As the others moved the body away, the group were in a silenced state of shock. Even Greg, who had wanted to kill the bastard who shot his son, was shocked to see that man gunned down so casually. And now Flint was smiling warmly as he went to each one of them, shaking their hands an
d asking their names. When he reached the end of the line he leaned close to Zodiac and smiled.
“You will enjoy your stay here, young Zodiac,” he promised, “Lots of children like my fairground and so will you.”
Zodiac said nothing as he looked into the eyes of the man who he had decided he definitely felt uncomfortable around – he had seen him shoot the masked man and now he was happy, almost as if killing someone had made him happy - and that wasn't normal... he knew Mr Flint was most definitely not a normal person...
Flint stepped back and reached into his pocket and pulled out cards which he handed to each of them.
“As a welcome to my town, you may have these passes and they will enable you to access the fair, the circus and all the sideshow attractions. You may also show it at the big white building across the street from the fairground entrance. It's a hotel. You will be given rooms. I'll give you some time to get settled and then we can talk about your skills and what you can bring to this town. And by the way – do not enter the black building across the other side of the street near the hotel. It's a zombie brothel.”
“We will certainly avoid that attraction, Mr Flint,” Parsons said.
He smirked as the others wore expressions ranging from confusion to disgust. Then as they began to walk away to head for the hotel, Marc told Vicki to go with the others and he hung back with Greg and Zodiac. He cast a glance to Flint, who was further away now, watching the others leave.
“Listen Greg, I have a bad feeling about this place He's talking like we're expected to settle here. I don't think it takes much imagination to work out what would happen if we refused and tried to leave.”
“I'm not so sure,” Greg replied, “We should give it time...this is a safe place, life is almost normal here apart from the zombie entertainment... We should reserve judgement, we've only been here five minutes. We don't know what this place is like yet, we need to find out.”
Then they ended their conversation because Flint was back to join them.
“Perhaps you should take young Zodiac to the circus?” he suggested, “If you hurry, you'll catch Cleo's performance... the lady on the rope, it's quite an impressive act!”
“Do you want to go to the circus?” Greg asked his son.
“Yes!” Zodiac said excitedly.
“Okay, let's all go,” he replied, taking hold of his son's hand as he glanced to his best friend and Marc nodded in agreement – of course they would go together – it wasn't a good idea to split up in a place like this, at least not until they had got to know the ways of this town well enough to work out the level of threat.
They walked off in the direction of the circus tent and as they went on their way and Flint watched them leave, the look in his eyes grew cold. He was thinking about the cages he used for display purposes and wondered which size would be right for the boy. People were noticing him now, staring then looking away as they realised there was a half dead in town, a rare, freaky virus kid...A kid who would make a fabulous addition, eventually, to a certain planned display that he was sure would prove popular...
“Flint?”
He turned around and saw John was still standing there.
“I'd like to leave now.”
“Of course,” Flint replied, “Go back to the gates and ask patrol to take you back. Here, give them my card..” he reached into his pocket and handed out another pass, “Show them this, just so they know not to shoot you and leave you on the wasteland. Never shoot at my men again, we have an agreement!”
“Understood,” was all John said.
Then he walked away from the fair, heading off down the road that would eventually lead back to the main gates of the town. His heart felt heavy for the strangers he had been forced to leave behind – they would soon find out just how bad it could get here, but without enough guns and man power, he knew there was not a thing he could do to get rid of the lunatic Harvey Flint who ran this place like something crossed between a prison disguised as a town, and a lunatic asylum...
Chapter 3
Finding a seat took some work because the vast circus tent was packed to capacity. Then Marc spotted three empty seats on the end of the third row and they went up and quickly sat down to catch the remainder of an act that had filled the circus ring with the sound of revving chainsaws.
Two clowns were in the middle of the ring, their painted faces were spattered with dark zombie blood, matching the gore that shone wet on their clown suits. They both put down the chainsaws and reached for the severed hands and feet of the dismembered zombie, the body parts were still twitching as they began to juggle them, and the crowd applauded.
Marc glanced to Greg.
“I'm not so sure this entertainment is right for Zodiac...”
“I don't think it's right for anyone!” Greg replied, still watching the scene of horror.
Zodiac was also watching and he wore an expression of disgust. Then the act ended and the clowns were applauded again before they left the ring and men hurried out to clear away the zombie remains and throw down fresh sawdust.
“We should leave,” Marc said.
“Or maybe we should wait and catch the next act – it can't be like this all the way through, that would be insanity!”
“I'm sure it will be,” Marc agreed.
Then he cast his glance around the vast audience. Many families had brought their children to watch this horror. Some were laughing, eating popcorn and enjoying iced drinks. Was this the new normal? Had the whole world gone mad?
Just then Flint rushed to the centre of the ring. He threw his arms wide as if embracing the whole of the crowd, who went wild and as crazed look came to his eyes as he smiled brightly and bowed with grace.
“Welcome to Flint's Circus!” he declared, “ Welcome to old faces and to new...” he glanced into the audience to the place where Greg and Marc sat with Zodiac, “The next act is one of true courage... now the ropes have been moved closer together and the platform is even higher because she knows no fear! She's the lady who defies death by zombie whilst suspended in mid air – here's Cleo!”
The crowd cheered and clapped. Then bright spotlights lit on the ground and high above, as on an upper platform, three men brought out four snarling zombies. They were all linked by ropes, one tied to each creature's wrist as another rope bound them together.
The wrist rope was raised, pulling up the creatures by an arm as the rope was tied to a metallic ring. Then the men cut the tie that bound the zombies in a bundle and kicked the bundle of undead off the platform and they fell a short drop, suspended and swinging as they snarled and lashed out with their free hands as the other was held up by the ropes.
“That won't last long!” Marc exclaimed.
“The weight will pull on the wrists, severing the hands and sending the zombies into the ring,” Zodiac pointed out.
Greg indicated to three men on the ground who were ready with shotguns.
“I think that's what the armed men on the ground are for,” he told his son, “I think we're safe.. I hope so. If not, don't worry – I know where the exit is!”
Then as a woman in a sequin leotard was led into the ring taking painfully stiff steps in very high heeled boots, Greg looked on with interest as she was led up the steps towards the ladder that led to the other upper platform where there was a handle to grasp... He looked to the rope that ran from the zombie side to the woman's side.
“Oh no!” he said, sounding shocked, “I think...she's going to descend as the rope gives, when they shoot the zombies one at a time.. I think they're going to aim for the wrist... Those ropes are so close together! If the zombies swing out, she's dead!”
“Christ almighty,” Marc whispered.
Now the audience had fallen silent, watching as Cleo began a shaky climb up the ladder to the platform. As she reached the top and paused for breath and clung to a pole for support, the lights caught on her sequins and the glossy sheen to her long dark hair, and it made the tear that ran down her face
shine too.
“She's crying!” Greg said in alarm, “Is she being forced to do this?”
He had directed that question to Marc, who could only shake his head in dismay as he watched the woman on the platform. Greg looked sharply back towards the upper area of the tent, where Cleo was trembling as she reached up and grasped the handle and held on tight. She had no safety net, no harness and she looked terrified...
Her hands trembled as she heard the first shot and the rope slid down, she stepped off the platform, hanging free as she slid a short distance. There was another shot. A second zombie was hit, severing its tied wrist from its hand as two head shots from the ground below took out the fallen undead. She slid lower. Then the remaining zombies clashed, snarled and bit at each other, the rope swung wildly and she could only hold on, with a look of terror on her face as people below stood up, she heard screams, then her own scream mingled with people below as the zombie swung violently towards her again, its jaws snapping as a dead hand reached out, missing her arm by a fraction.
“I can't hit the target!” a man was yelling from below.
As panic swept through the audience, the zombie swung again, lashing out at the terrified woman who looked down in terror then screamed again as the undead hand made a grab and almost caught her shoulder. Now both zombies were swinging wildly as a shot boomed from below and missed the wrists of the remaining creatures.
“Just shoot the damned thing!” yelled Flint as he ran across the ring and joined the armed men. He drew a gun and raised it, his aim shifting crazily in time with the swinging rope as he too struggled to take aim.
“Don't move!” he yelled to Cleo.
Another shot hit the target, taking off the hand at the wrist as the other zombie fell, as Cleo's rope slid lower and the final zombie now swung above her. She was gripping the handle so hard her knuckles were white, she was weeping and terrified and could not hold on much longer as the creature swung again and a shot missed it and tore a hole through the top of tent. It swing out again, grabbing at her rope.