“Something very bad is about to happen,” she said.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But it’s already begun. It can’t be stopped.”
But Matt knew better than that. In his own way, he saw the future too, every time he looked into the decaying face of someone eaten alive by evil.
“That’s what he wants you to think,” Matt said.
He brushed past Gloria and headed for his trailer. Gloria reached out to touch him, but he ignored her. When he got to the trailer, he looked back. She was right behind him. Matt went inside. Gloria followed. He didn’t try to stop her.
Matt pulled his duffel bag from under the bed.
And took out his ax.
Whatever game Mr. Dark was playing was entering another phase. Matt felt like a checker that was being pushed across the board from one square to the next.
He’d had that feeling before.
He hated it.
“Go back to your trailer,” he said. “You don’t want to be a part of this.”
“You’re right, I don’t, but I am whether I like it or not. Hiding from it isn’t going to change anything.”
“OK, but it’s going to be ugly.”
“I know,” she said.
They walked out together, Matt holding the ax at his side. He didn’t care who saw the ax. It was more important to him to have it handy and ready.
They had gone only a few steps when they heard dogs growling and snarling. Snapping teeth clicked together.
“What’s that?” Gloria asked.
The ruckus was coming from somewhere between the nearby trailers. Matt moved cautiously in the direction of the sound, his ax raised, Gloria safely behind him.
He rounded the edge of a trailer and stopped cold.
Three mongrels were tearing at something that had been a man. They’d ripped away most of its stomach, and bits of flesh lay on the ground. The dogs were chewing busily. One of them stopped and turned to look at Matt, its snout bloody, its teeth bared, its eyes blazing.
“Ken,” Gloria said at Matt’s shoulder. “That’s Ken.”
The dog started toward them, and Matt turned around, taking Gloria’s hand. “It’s not Ken now. Come on.”
Gloria let herself be led away, but she said, “We can’t just leave him.”
“We can’t help him, and the dogs won’t let us move him.”
Gloria gasped. She stopped and bent over.
“Are you going to be sick?” Matt asked.
“I’ll be all right,” Gloria said after a couple of deep breaths and looked back at the trailers. The dogs were out of sight, but they could still be heard as they worked at the body. “Should we call the police?”
Matt shook his head. “If anything, bringing men with guns into this could make things worse.”
More checkers for Mr. Dark.
They walked on in silence, Gloria holding his free hand. They went past the Ferris wheel and the carousel with their happy crowds and their merry tunes that were so out of place with what they’d just seen. Matt thought about warning everyone he saw to leave the carnival, but what good would it do? Everyone was as much a piece on the checkerboard as Matt himself. What Matt had to do was change the rules of the game.
And then it hit him.
Perhaps he already had. Just by coming here.
Matt’s arrival had awakened some latent gift in Gloria, and now, in her own way, she saw the darkness that he did.
He’d gained an ally.
And a new weapon against Mr. Dark.
And even though she was frightened, she’d shown that she had the courage to act when needed.
Matt felt a small surge of hope.
The two of them headed down the midway. Matt noticed a crowd growing around the ringtoss booth. As they got closer, he heard shouting.
From a distance, Matt could see someone standing at the edge of the booth, yelling at Jerry.
It was Buford, the mark from the previous night.
Today Buford wore a long overcoat, though the day was warm. His face was red, and the veins stood out in his neck. The people nearby seemed fascinated, but they gave him plenty of room. Matt didn’t blame them. He headed into the crowd just as Buford opened his coat, took out his rifle, and blasted open Jerry’s stomach.
The crowd broke into a panic, nearly trampling Matt and Gloria in their hurry to get away. For some of them it was too late. Buford started picking them off. The sound of the rifle shots was almost deafening. A woman fell, then another man. People screamed. Most ran, but some stood rooted in place, shocked into paralysis.
Mr. Dark had made his move.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Buford whirled around and fired again, missing this time. Matt could see that he wasn’t aiming at any particular target. He was just making random shots, not caring who lived or died.
“Stay here,” Matt told Gloria. He hefted his ax and advanced on Buford.
Matt and Gloria were so focused on Buford that neither one of them saw Serena standing at the edge of the crowd.
If Matt had seen her, he wouldn’t have recognized her. She looked like a cadaver that had been in the sun for a while, her bubbling, putrid flesh dripping from her moist bones.
Just as Matt made his move on the shooter, Serena stepped up to a dark-haired woman who’d been frozen in place by the horror of the shootings. Serena took hold of her hair, pulled back her head, and slit both carotid arteries in her throat with one smooth stroke of the butcher’s knife. A fan of blood arced out, splashing over two men standing near, and they suddenly discovered that they could move after all.
Serena let the woman fall and went looking for her next victim.
And saw Gloria, the bitch who had helped kill her babies.
Buford saw Matt coming and fired off a shot that singed Matt’s ear as it buzzed by. Before Buford could pull the trigger again, Matt feinted to the left.
Buford tracked him with the rifle, and Matt dodged back to the right. Going in low, he punched Buford in the stomach with the head of the ax. Buford doubled over but kept hold of the rifle.
Matt stepped back and swung the ax with one hand. The blade severed bone and sinew, slicing cleanly through Buford’s wrist. The hand didn’t lose its grip on the rifle, however. Hand and rifle dropped together, the index finger still poked through the trigger guard. Blood pumped out of the stump of Buford’s arm, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He came at Matt, spitting and screaming.
Matt hit him in the temple with the flat of the ax, and he fell to the ground, blood still squirting from the end of his arm. Maggots seethed out of his nose, his mouth, and his ears and spread over his entire body.
Matt ignored the fallen man and was turning to look for Gloria when…
The world stopped.
No music.
No screaming.
The people became as lifeless as mannequins.
Except for Matthew Cahill, who could still move, though it was as if the air had become Jell-O.
And one person who moved with no trouble at all.
A man dressed in a tuxedo and eating an enormous wad of cotton candy.
“I love the carnival,” Mr. Dark said. “So many games to choose from. Are you having fun?”
“I’m sick of the killing,” Matt said.
Mr. Dark picked at his cotton candy, dropping bits in his mouth. “Well, if you aren’t enjoying yourself, then you should go.”
“And let you finish whatever you’ve started? I don’t think so.”
“It’d be no fun without you, Matt. Oh, look what’s happened. My fingers are all sticky.” He held up the fingers he’d been using to eat the cotton candy. They were sticky with sugar. “And so are yours.”
Matt looked at his hands. They were spattered with blood.
Suddenly the world came alive, like the play button had been hit on a paused video.
Matt looked up and Mr. Dark was gone.
But not the
blood on Matt’s hands. It must have been Buford’s. He wiped them on his shirt and turned to look for Gloria.
And that’s when he saw her, wide-eyed with fear.
Serena embraced Gloria from behind and held a butcher knife to her throat. Gloria stood helplessly, Buford’s rifle and severed hand at her feet. Serena’s face was now just a skull with some clumps of flesh sticking to the bone, her eyeballs like curdled milk.
It was not a pretty picture.
“You killed my babies,” Serena said to Matt. “Now I’ll kill one of yours.”
Matt took a step toward her. There was no way he could stop her if she decided to slit Gloria’s throat.
“Wouldn’t it be better to kill me instead?” Matt said.
“You’re next,” she said, glaring at him.
It was in that instant, when Serena’s attention was briefly focused on Matt, that Gloria acted. She jabbed Serena in the ribs with her elbow, and Serena jerked her arm away, slicing Gloria’s throat, but only skin deep.
Gloria brought her foot down on Serena’s instep, causing Serena to yell and drop her arms. When she did that, Gloria pushed away, turned, and threw a pretty fair right cross, catching Serena on the side of her jaw. What little flesh was left on Serena’s skull flew off the bone, and her eyeballs splashed out of their sockets.
Serena stumbled back. Gloria picked up the rifle and shook it so that the dismembered hand with the finger through the trigger guard fell to the ground. Gloria put her own finger on the trigger and pulled it four or five times. The bullets tore into Serena and made her dance like a puppet. The knife fell from her hand as she jerked crazily and then fell.
The noise of the shots increased the panic of the crowd. People fled to the exit. Nobody stopped to see what was going on. Everyone just wanted to get out.
Gloria threw the rifle away from her as if it were tainted. She turned to Matt. “Look out,” she cried. “Behind you!”
Matt whirled around to see Jerry jump over the counter of his booth and start toward him, his intestines spilling out of his blown-open midsection. Jerry was holding a tent stake in one hand. Matt wondered if it was the same one that had disappeared from his pocket. Probably. That was the kind of thing Mr. Dark would have considered amusing.
“Jerry,” Matt said. “You don’t have to do this.”
Jerry smiled and a couple of his teeth fell out. He took the stake by the tip and threw it at Matt like a knife.
Matt swatted it aside with the ax. It clanged against the blade and dropped to the ground. Matt got a fresh grip on the ax handle and moved in. Jerry didn’t even try to defend himself as Matt brought the ax down and split his head. Grayish goo spilled out, and Jerry tumbled forward.
Gloria gagged, and Matt took her arm. Blood trickled down her neck onto her robes. She took a handkerchief from a pocket and held it to her throat to stop the bleeding.
“I told you it would be bad,” he said.
“I knew it would be,” Gloria said. “I just didn’t know how bad.”
“It might just be getting started,” Matt said.
“It is,” she said. “When Serena had her arm around me, I saw something. I saw the Ferris wheel.”
“What about it?” Matt asked.
“People are going to die.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sue Jean and Earl met at the entrance to the carnival just as the first fleeing patrons were leaving.
“Hey, Earl,” Sue Jean said, ignoring the screams and panic around them. She found that she had nothing against Earl after all. “How’s it hangin’?”
“Better than last night,” Earl said, who wasn’t pissed off at her anymore. “You ready to have some fun?”
“That’s what I’m here for, but it better be the right kind of fun.”
“Oh, it is,” Earl said with a grin. “It is.” He showed her the pistol. “See what I mean?”
“A pistol? Is that all?”
“It’s enough,” Earl said. “Watch this.”
He fired the pistol at a man who was running along with a child in his arms. The bullet hit the man in the knee. He screamed, dropped the child, and fell to the ground clutching his knee. Blood seeped between his fingers.
Sue Jean shrugged. “Is that all?”
“No way,” Earl said. “I think we can really fuck this place up. You gonna come along or not?”
“Why not?” Sue Jean said, and they strolled through the crowd as if it didn’t exist. Earl reached out and took Sue Jean’s hand. She smiled at him. “You really think we can do some damage?”
“You just wait,” Earl said. “You’ll see.”
The carnival was so noisy, full of music and bells and shrieks and pops, and the crowd so large and dense, that the bloodbath at the ringtoss and the shooting at the entry had gone largely unheard and unnoticed. The shots had been drowned out and the horrified screams blended into those from the rides. Word of the shootings and deaths had yet to sweep through attendees, but the panic was certainly spreading and soon it would be pandemonium.
Matt and Gloria were heading toward the back of the park, where the Ferris wheel and most of the other rides were, when he saw Sue Jean and Earl, thirty yards away, passing through the crowd like two salmon swimming upstream.
Even from a distance, Matt could see the swarm of blowflies following them.
They were walking dead.
He pointed them out to Gloria. “See those two?”
“Yes,” she said. “They’re death.”
And moving toward the rides.
He headed after them and Gloria followed. But it wasn’t easy. People eager to get to the rides themselves bumped them, shoved them, and cursed them for trying to get ahead.
Nobody seemed to notice Matt’s ax or the blood that was dripping from the blade onto the dirt.
Earl and Sue Jean reached the rides. The carousel music was “In the Good Old Summertime,” and people were smiling and having a good time, completely unaware of what was happening at the other end of the carnival.
The Ferris wheel creaked in its circle, the cars swaying, some more than others as the occupants tried to scare each other.
Small airplanes swung out from their center pole at the ends of strong chains, each plane holding a couple of happy kids.
Earl felt power surge through him, as if he were hooked up to the big generator that sent electricity to the rides. He felt taller than the Ferris wheel and wondered if he would just burst right out of his clothes. He looked at Sue Jean to see if she’d noticed the change.
She hadn’t. “This isn’t fun. I’m bored.”
“You won’t be bored long,” Earl said. “I told you we were gonna fuck this place up. I won’t even need my pistol.”
To prove he wasn’t lying, he extended his arm and pointed at the airplanes. As the crowd watched, the planes began to gain speed. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster until they were spinning so rapidly that they were almost a blur. The cheerful sound of the carousel was drowned out by the screaming of children and their parents, along with the whine of the chains cutting the air and the squealing of the big generator.
Sue Jean hugged Earl and laughed. He felt better than when he’d shot Harry and George.
“I told you you wouldn’t be bored,” he said.
“Do more,” Sue Jean said. “Do more.”
Earl wasn’t sure at first that he could, but power welled up inside him and he pointed to the carousel, which, like the airplanes, began to pick up speed. More screams as children clung to the horses’ necks and to the poles that ran through them. A man ran to get his child off the horse, but the carousel was going too fast. He managed to jump on, but the whirling carousel flung him right back off. He skidded across the ground and lay still.
Sue Jean clapped her hands. Earl sure knew how to show a girl a good time.
“Do the bumper cars!”
Earl did the bumper cars, which began whizzing around the ring entirely out of the control of the young drive
rs. They banged into each other with such force that their front ends were flattened.
Sue Jean laughed, but her laughter died almost at once.
“Nobody’s killed,” she said. “Why isn’t anybody killed?”
“You want somebody killed?”
“All of them,” Sue Jean said. “All of them.”
“Pick a ride,” he said, being generous and eager to show off his newfound powers.
“The Ferris wheel,” Sue Jean said. “Do the Ferris wheel.”
“Not a good idea,” Matt said, yelling to be heard above the panicking crowd, the zinging chains, the howl of the straining generator, and the screams of the riders, as he advanced on the couple.
Sue Jean and Earl didn’t seem surprised by his appearance. Matt saw the decay in their faces as they turned to him. Earl brought up the pistol and leveled it at Gloria, who was coming up behind Matt.
“The asshole from last night,” Earl said.
Sue Jean giggled and poked Earl in the ribs with her finger.
Earl grinned and said to Matt, “Things are different now. You’d better stop where you are. I’ll shoot your girlfriend if you don’t.”
Matt didn’t doubt that Earl would do it. He stopped. He hoped that someone in the milling crowd would jump Earl and take the pistol. Nobody did.
“After I kill her,” Earl said, “I think I’ll tear loose that Ferris wheel and let it roll through the midway.”
“Do it,” Sue Jean said. “Do it.”
“Goddamn right,” Earl said, but he was distracted by the airplane ride, where the noise had increased even more as the planes began to whirl ever faster, the chains stretched out almost parallel to the ground.
One of the chains snapped with a metallic twang as the links separated. The plane flew. Not like a real plane. Its wings were too stubby for that, but it had plenty of speed. It buzzed over the heads of the terrified crowd and slammed into the carousel like a bomb. Pieces of horses and poles exploded outward.
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