by Aline Riva
“But you have a horde in the middle of your community! If they got loose -”
He laughed and the amusement that danced in his eyes chilled Parsons to the bone.
“I've been dong this for two years with no disaster! You worry far too much!”
Parsons was about to speak again, but a shout cut through the air.
“Oi Flint, I want a word with you!”
Parsons turned to see Greg storming towards Flint, his eyes were burning with rage as Zodiac followed behind looking confused.
“Oh shit no, don't do this, Greg -”
“Out of my way!”
Greg shoved past him, lunging at Flint and both men went off the path as Flint's back slammed against the wall of a caravan, making it rock. Greg's eyes were blazing as he held him there by the lapels of his jacket.
“You run this town your way like the shit pit that it is, do what ever the fuck you like - but no one threatens my son!” he yelled.
Then a gun was pressed to the back of his head.
“Step away from Mr Flint or I shoot!” warned the masked security guard as Zodiac looked on anxiously.
“Daddy, stop!” he urged.
Greg froze, then as his grip on Flint's jacket loosened, Flint glanced at the guard.
“Lower your weapon. Our new doctor is slightly worked up.. over something, but nothing to do with me, clearly!”
As the man lowered his gun, Greg breathed out heavily and Zodiac ran up to him and grabbed his father's hand, looking back at the guard as he snapped his teeth together.
“Stop that!” Greg said sharply, then as Flint told the guard to leave, Zodiac began to calm down but did not let go of his father's hand. Greg was still glaring at Flint.
“What is this about?” Flint demanded.
“Last night one of your masked security men broke into my suite while my son was alone! He's only safe because my best friend heard him shout for help, I was at the medical centre with Cleo. You'd better tell me what you had in mind, or you''ll be wishing you didn't send that guard away so fast because I still want to kill you!”
“I know nothing about this,” Flint replied, “And as for someone preying on your son, remember he's a virus child – and best kept out of sight. People fear the unknown, Greg. You may not have noticed the stares and the whispers, but people are trying to be polite! As for what happened at the hotel, it was nothing to do with me and be assured, when I find out who did it, I will shoot them myself. Never accuse me of something so terrible! You may not approve of the way I run this town but it works. I'm sorry if your son makes people feel uneasy but he is different and born of the virus. I can't help you with that!”
Parsons stepped in, shooting a warning glance to Greg.
“I think it's clear Flint knew nothing about it,”he said, “And don't you have a patient to attend to, Doctor Fitzroy? I was just about to make some business arrangements with Flint. I don't need you messing this up for me, I want to help run this town.”
Greg caught the look in his eyes and understood right away – Parsons plan was working out well and he needed to leave him to get on with it.
“Of course you do, I'm sorry,” he said, and Parsons gave him a nod and cast a glance to confirm the plan was in motion.
Greg turned back to Flint and did a fine job of faking an apology.
“I'm really sorry,” he told him, “But after what happened, I must have a loaded gun...I need to be sure my son is safe. Like you said, people around here don't understand virus kids.”
To his great surprise, Flint drew his own gun from its holster and handed it to him.
“Please, take mine – I have plenty more. I understand your need to protect your child.”
“Thanks,” Greg said, holstering the weapon beneath his coat as he wondered why Flint had handed the gun over so willingly.
“Now, can we go somewhere private and talk business?” Parsons asked.
“Yes, my office is this way,” Flint replied, gesturing to a small building at the back of the caravan area, then he glanced back at Greg.
“Do give my best wishes to Cleo. And keep out of trouble, young Zodiac.”
He smiled but Zodiac did not, then Flint and Parsons walked away together.
“Let's go to the medical centre,” Greg said, “We'd better get some food first – Cleo must be starving!” then they headed for the entrance, pausing on the way to grab some food from a hot dog seller.
As Greg and his son waited for the food, further up the park as he approached the office, Flint glanced back, barely hearing a word Parsons said as he asked about his new role here in Circus Town. Flint's mind was still on the boy. The half dead would have been snatched the previous night, if not for Marc bursting into the room as the kid cried out for help. But there was no need to rush, Flint had his plan in place and could carry it out any time he wanted to and the thought made him smile as he entered the office, still thinking about Zodiac Fitzroy: The young half dead would make a fine addition to his new planned attraction, the zombie freak show...
Chapter 5
The next two days passed by quickly. With Parson's plan set into motion the others felt more confident about taking on the roles Flint had chosen. Marc had his doubts and entered into the agreement with caution, speaking privately with Parsons, pulling him aside when they met the rest of their team – who were all wearing the creepy masks of Circus security – to be sure he would be informed of any developments or changes to plan right away. Then they joined the others and he openly refused to wear a mask.
“I'm not wearing one either,” Parsons had said as they stood at the back of the fairground with the leader of the zombie round up group, who was a tall, heavily built man named Conrad, who looked at him in confusion behind his silver mask.
“Why not? We're part of a team, we all look the same this way.”
“I'm not prepared to do anything that requires my identity to be hidden, “ Parsons replied, “As leader of my community back in Wolfsheer I had nothing to hide. My moral standpoint remains the same. And Mr Flint is keen that Marc and myself work with you to better organise these round ups. Now, show me the inside of the storage area.”
Conrad glanced to the other men.
“Get over to the spare units and do the safety checks.”
The group of twelve split into groups of six and got in two vans, then drove off towards the road. As they left, Conrad turned back to Marc and Parsons.
“I know what you're thinking – it's crazy to keep a horde inside the town. Well, it's not. They are secure. Come with me, I'll show you how it works.”
Parsons and Marc exchanged a glance, then followed him over to the heavy door. He unlocked it, pulled back bolts, then opened the door and turned on a light. All they could see was a narrow passageway and a solid wall. He stepped inside, they entered and he closed the door again and locked it.
“This is how it works,” he said, and led them up a flight of steps at the end of the passageway.
On entering the next level, the moans and snarls of the dead that had sounded distant thanks to the heavy walls, was now amplified. They stood on a platform above a pit filled with a horde of undead, their snarls and shrieks and moans reached the rooftop and echoed about the vast interior, the stink of the creatures was powerful too, filling the air thickly.
Conrad indicated to the controls in front of him.
“Pick one.”
Again, Marc and Parsons exchanged a glance. Parsons pointed to a messy, partly eviscerated corpse that pushed and bumped against others as its jaw hung off at an angle and it shrieked wildly. Conrad hit a button, then used more buttons to guide a hook from above, it came down, catching the loop in the back of the metal collar around the creatures neck and then lifted it from the group and moved it across the room, still snarling as it struggled, and lowered it into a small wooden cubicle beyond the solid wall.
“We usually hook them,” Conrad said, “Sometimes, if we need extras for the circus, in an
emergency, we just go in through the metal door that gives access to the maze and then we loop 'em with a chain.”
“What maze?” Parsons asked.
Conrad went back down the stairway, then to a hidden doorway beneath it as he laughed.
“These dumb shits are so easy to trap. There's a horde in the pit, only a few slip through the gap and get in here – this is like a filter system for the rare smart ones. We average around six or seven a couple of times a week, they stumble through what used to be the old fun house, twisting passageways that lead to this door... but we have mirrors left over from the old days, distorted mirrors, in front of the exit – they never see us coming with the chain.”
He unlocked the door and opened it, keeping a hand on his holstered gun. Up ahead, three zombies staggered, heading for the exit, then tilting their heads as they looked into the tall distorted mirrors that faced them. One zombie was repeatedly walking into the toughened glass, the smacking of its head quickly became a splat sound as it slammed its skull against the hard surface again and dead skin split and dark blood dripped to the concrete floor.
“You only have one door in this area?” Marc asked.
Conrad closed the door heavily and locked it.
“They can't get out.”
“How do we get them in?”asked Parsons.
“There's a drop zone at the back of the building – through a door, up the stairs into a room beyond, unlock the second door and push them off the platform.”
“You've got more than enough zombies to keep this place supplied with entertainment for months!” Marc said, “Why gather more?”
“Some are not in one piece and they tend to degrade in quality faster than the rest. We have to round up ten at a time – we split them into groups of no more than five, with six men bringing them back. The next run is in two days time. I want you both with me, to help organise this run to make it safer. We've lost men, had them killed or they've been bitten and then I had to shoot them – this was after the doctor left town. At least now if anyone gets hurt, Greg or Christian can deal with it. Flint told me all about it, two new doctors in town. We need that help, it was terrible when I had to shoot some of my best guys because they got infected.”
By now they had left the building and Conrad locked the door securely and forced the heavy bolts back into place. As they walked away, masked guards took up posts outside to keep the place protected.
“When are the zombies brought in for the circus?” Marc asked.
“Late at night, when everyone has gone home. No one knows we keep a horde in there – it's a secret shared only with the ones who work on round up.”
“It would be unthinkable for this secret to get out,” Parsons replied, glancing at Marc. Then Conrad stopped walking, turning back to them as the breeze blew strongly off the sea, banishing the stink of the dead that had lingered since leaving the storage area, “In the early days, one man did try and spread a rumour that a horde was being stored inside town. The next day they found him with a bullet in his head and his tongue cut out. Obviously, we keep our secrets around here.”
“So you should,” Marc said quickly, catching a glance from Parsons that confirmed appearing to agree was the best move, “It's practical to keep them close to the fairground. I'm impressed by how securely they are kept, too.”
“And I'm also impressed,” Parsons added, smiling as he looked to Conrad, “We certainly have a genius running this town!”
“Yes, we do,” Conrad replied, and suddenly his mood lightened as he made arrangements to meet with them in two days to go on the next round up. After the masked man walked away, Parsons and Marc hung back.
“I don't know how long I can keep pretending,” Marc told him, “This place is sick and it just gets worse.”
“I struggle with it too, then I remember I'm Antonio Parsons and a lot of people used to rely on me. I know I couldn't have stopped that ship from running aground on Wolfsheer, but I can do something about the situation this town is stuck in. I just have to persuade him to trust me, and so do you.”
“I guess I'll have to focus on the end result to get through,” Marc replied, “I'm trying to imagine this place without the sick zombie entertainment and without Flint keeping his people like prisoners...I'm not sure it can happen.”
“Give it time,” Parsons told him, “I believe we can turn this place around. We just have to build some influence first.” Then the two men walked off the path and across the field, heading for the sea wall, to grab a view of the incoming tide and snatch some rare peace in a location that, for as long as they looked at it, would allow them to pretend the world had never descended into hell.
Emma had spent two days looking for Alex. Finally she had learned he lived in a flat on the first floor row above the amusement arcade half a mile away at the end of the seafront. She had slipped away from Vicki, who had decided she was safest staying in the hotel, saying she wanted to go for a walk. Then she had started asking for Alex and the third person she had stopped and spoken to that morning had told her Crazy Casper lived in the end flat on the block above The Mermaid Slots Arcade.
She went up the steps, then along the balcony, where she looked back to see a view of fields, a pub and a school that laid back behind some houses. The kids were on their break and running about in the sunshine. It felt at that moment like normal life had returned – until she saw the masked armed men who were outside the heavily fenced school, patrolling just in case the undead defied the outer ring of spikes and guards and wandered in.
She turned away from the view and went past four doors all with paint peeling, when she came to the fifth, right at the end of the block, she paused to look through the window, past a thin net curtain and into a small hallway. There was faded paper on the walls and an old carpet decorated with swirls in shades of orange and black. These flats looked old and had not been modernised before the apocalypse. They were run down, but all the same it was better than most had outside of this secure town.
She grabbed the rusty door knocker and tapped three times. The knocking echoed down the hallway, then the curtain twitched. She heard a lock click back, then a chain slide and he opened the door, standing there looking surprised.
“How did you find me?”
“I just asked around,” she replied, omitting the part about happening to ask close by had got her instant results because Crazy Casper was a name people around here knew well. But he didn't seem crazy today. There was no manic expression on his face, he seemed unusually calm and...normal, if that was the right way to think of it... She had never seen him behaving as anything less than bizarre, but now he was not - it came as a surprise and for a moment she just looked at him.
“Are you coming in?” he asked.
“I would have asked you where you lived a few days ago but you just...” she held back on using the phrase took off, in case it triggered his arm flapping and bird – like urges, “You left without saying goodbye.”
“I was planning to visit the hotel. I just wanted to sort myself out first.“ He stepped back and she went inside, then he closed the door.
Now the world was shut out, just for a moment, they shared another silent pause as they stood there in the hallway.
“You're so different...”
He smiled and his eyes sparkled.
“That's because I take these,” he said, leading her into a small kitchen with old fashioned wooden cupboards. He opened up a drawer and took out a bottle of pills.
“The factories up the other end of town make all kinds of stuff. Some medications are now being manufactured. These pills keep my mood even... I haven't been the same since I lost my family. I forgot my meds... no, I'm going to tell you the truth - I deliberately left them behind when I trailed the supply run when you first met me. I have to be a bit hyper to face the outside world away from this town, with the undead roaming free. I have no fear when I'm what people around here call Crazy Casper.”
“But Flint seems to be
understanding? He didn't punish you for leaving.”
He ran his fingers through his silver streaked hair and shook his head.
“No, he won't punish me. He sympathises with me. In the old days, he had a few issues of his own, but very different to mine. Violent episodes, always getting arrested for fights and criminal damage... but he had money to sort out the fines and people to cover up for him. He was sectioned once for walking into a bar with a shotgun. He's also been in a strait jacket in a padded cell. But money speaks volumes and charges get dropped, bail gets paid and people like him end up back out here with the rest of us. He was waiting to go on trial for a murder charge when the apocalypse happened, he killed a guy in a fight. And no, before you ask, he's not on any medication now. And he's not just loose in this community again, now he's running it.”
“Oh god no...” she said in a hushed voice. Suddenly it all made sense, Greg had been right, Flint really was a psychopath...
“As long as you don't get on the wrong side of him, you will all be fine,” he added, “No one likes him running things, he makes people uneasy. If John Mundy had taken over this town would be a great place – but his men lost and John can't stay around here. Flint prefers him to live out of town because he still has followers and influence.... anyway, enough about the town... would you like some tea?”
She smiled.
“Yes please, Alex,” she said, and he put the kettle on.
As he started to make the tea he changed the subject, asking how she and the others had settled in. By now she was seated at the kitchen table and as she talked with him, she was surprised at how deep her fondness was growing. She had liked him from the day they had met - now that fondness was growing deeper. She was seeing him in a whole new light and she liked it...
Vicki was alone in her room at the hotel, standing on the balcony and watching the fairground, but had not caught sight of Marc. She guessed he was somewhere far over the back, but now the place was getting busy as it did every day before noon and so she turned from the balcony, wishing it was a fairground like the kind they used to have in the old days – the sort that didn't have zombie body parts in side shows. She turned from the balcony and went back inside then gave a gasp, feeling shaken at the unexpected sight of Harvey Flint standing in the middle of the room. He smiled warmly.