Fun World

by Kirk Withrow

  Eric’s expectation was confirmed a moment later when he heard several loud splashes behind them. Even though he didn’t see what made the splashes, they didn’t sound like the deep sploosh he would expect from something like a large rock being thrown into the water. Instead, the sounds had more of a broad slap to them, like a fat guy that tried to flip into a pool but instead managed a full-on belly flop. Immediately, he knew they weren’t the only ones looking to enjoy some time on the river that day.

  He turned in time to see another zombie stumble mindlessly into the water. Like lemmings, many others followed suit. What started as a couple of isolated splashes soon became nearly one long continuous splash as at least two dozen zombies poured into the river. He noticed that some didn’t seem to resurface once they hit the water, and he wondered if that meant they were truly dead or simply stuck underwater, lying in wait like undead naval mines. It was a terrifying thought. Not waiting around to investigate further, he turned and continued wading downstream as quickly as possible.

  Eric could touch the bottom nearly everywhere he stepped with the exception of a narrow trough that he assumed was related to the boat’s conveyance system based on the flit of movement and vibration he felt when he accidentally stepped into the gully. As most of the zombies that followed them into the water had been adults, they, too, had little trouble finding their footing. Lila, on the other hand, was forced to dog paddle, continuously struggling to keep her head above water. Fully clothed and waterlogged, she tired quickly with the tremendous effort. When she began to slow, he had her take hold of his neck and slung her around to his back.

  Although she wasn’t particularly heavy, the drag of the sodden backpack combined with the extra fifty pounds made swimming nearly impossible and further slowed Eric’s already sluggish pace. The waterway’s slimy bottom provided virtually no traction, making it useless for anything other than standing still. With the steadily growing group of zombies trudging in their direction, standing still wasn’t an option. Finally, he settled on something in between, which ultimately looked like the bounding steps of an astronaut walking on the moon. This provided the right balance of forward movement with conservation of energy. Once he found his stride, the distance between them and the pursuing zombies slowly increased.

  Easily outpacing the growing, waterborne horde, Eric felt as though they were home free until he went to take his next leaping step. No sooner than he pushed off from the slippery floor, something grabbed hold of his right ankle and refused to let go. Hard and unyielding, it dug deeply, riving his flesh from the bone and halting his momentum as he tried to leap forward. Waves of warmth washed over his leg as hot blood mixed with the cold water. It felt like his leg was bleeding considerably, though no visible trace of blood had made it to the surface. The turbid water obscured everything, including whatever had entangled his foot.

  Realizing he wasn’t likely to break free with Lila hanging around his neck, Eric slid her off, leaving her to tread water while he struggled to free his leg. Frantically, he twisted and tugged, flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to break free from the submarine snare. As though he were caught in an oversized, underwater Chinese finger trap, his struggles only seemed to tighten the hold on his ankle. Amidst the commotion, with all his attention focused on extricating his foot, Eric didn’t notice the loud splash that came from less than twenty feet away. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of Lila’s voice drenched in terror that he became aware of the new threat closing in from behind.

  “Daddy, he’s…getting closer. I can’t…keep floating for much longer,” she gasped, her mouth momentarily dipping below the water’s surface.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Eric saw the abomination that had his little girl so alarmed. Roughly twenty yards ahead of the main group and moving faster than the rest of the undead monsters was a male zombie that appeared to have been in his mid-twenties when he succumbed to the horror tearing through the park. Heavily muscled with a shaved head, the brawny zombie slogged toward them with a malevolent look in his lifeless eyes. The thing’s once-white wifebeater was stained with all shades of red and brown. A huge rip on the shirt’s front exposed a meaty pec muscle, which was inked with numerous white power insignia that made Eric cringe. Several other slightly less offensive tattoos covered what remained of the hulk’s neck and face. In addition to nearly half of his scalp, the thing was missing a considerable amount of his cheek and lip, which gave him a sort of evil sneer. As terrible as it was to see anyone fall victim to this nightmare plague, Eric couldn’t help but think that it might have been a just end for this guy. Even so, he kicked and thrashed with renewed vigor at the sight of the monstrosity bearing down upon them. It was no use; his foot didn’t budge an inch.

  With panic rising in his voice, Eric turned to Lila and said, “Listen to me. You have to go on without me. Please! I promise I’ll catch up, but you need to go now!” Even as he said it, he knew there was no guarantee that he could make good on such a promise, but he didn’t care. He needed his daughter to get to safety and he would’ve said anything to make that happen.

  The look on Lila’s face told Eric she didn’t relish the idea of being separated from him again, and he wasn’t sure she had the energy to do so even if she’d wanted to. She wasn’t a particularly good swimmer, and despite being eight years old, she’d only recently abandoned her trusty puddle jumper whenever she went to the swimming pool. It had taken her to the age of seven to realize that her issue was more fear of the water than the actual act of swimming. In fact, up until six months ago, she couldn’t even get her hair washed without panicking and needing a towel to wipe her eyes immediately. Her anxiety over the matter had been so bad that her current situation would’ve been nearly unsurvivable only a year ago.

  Now, Lila clung to her father’s struggling form as though her life depended on it, and it was entirely possible that it did. Eric was painfully aware of that fact even as he implored her to swim for the shore without him. It was the kind of cruel catch-22 that philosophers and logicians could debate for days. Unfortunately, the zombie steadily gaining ground on them only left him with seconds in which to make his decision. No matter how tired and scared she was, he had no doubt that Lila’s chance of survival would be significantly higher if she swam for the shore rather than stayed to face the skinhead zombie. Although he refused to acknowledge it, the idea that death by drowning was preferable to death by zombie mauling was certainly floating around in the back of his mind. Nevertheless, Lila refused his adamant pleas.

  The skinhead zombie was now less than fifteen feet away. With desperation closing in on him as fast as the zombie nightmare behind him, Eric squirmed and pulled, hoping in vain to wriggle free. Much to his surprise, he saw Lila take a huge breath before plunging beneath the surface. He hoped she’d decided to do what he asked, though something about the look of determination burning in her eyes gave him doubts. Simultaneously alarmed and confused, he ceased struggling and merely stared at the bubbles rising to the water’s swirling surface in the place where she had just disappeared.

  A moment later, the bubbles stopped rising and the water grew relatively still where Lila had gone under. Aside from the sloshing noise of the skinhead trudging toward him, everything was eerily quiet. He wished more than anything that the terrible silence would end. Although he understood on some level that it hadn’t been very long, it seemed as though she had been submerged for an eternity. He stared into the water and traced a path to the shore, hoping he might see some indication that she was on her way to safety. He saw nothing.

  Fatigue, which up to that point had been neck and neck with the approaching zombie, started to pull ahead, and Eric wondered if he might simply drown before the monster got him. Powerless to do anything, he closed his eyes. He pictured Lila kicking hard and imagined he could feel the water eddying around her arms and legs as they propelled her to safety. The entirety of his being drifted away with that tiny sensation. Soon, his entire world changed. He no l
onger heard the terrifying sounds of the bald monstrosity that would be upon him at any moment. The water no longer felt cold against his skin, and he felt no pain where the metal dug sharply into his ankle. It was peaceful, and if he were honest, he actually felt good for the first time in longer than he could remember. The world around him was black and he couldn’t see Lila anywhere. He hoped she was safe or, at the very least, had found the same euphoria that he was enjoying. It occurred to him that the zombie might have already killed him and what he was experiencing was actually his first taste of heaven. Considering everything that he’d done since the Happy Little World ride, he wasn’t sure he was even eligible for heaven, if such a place actually existed.

  * * * * *

  The enormous bald zombie snarling before her was without question the most terrifying thing Lila had ever seen, which was saying something given the last couple of days at Fun World. Even so, she never considered abandoning her father and leaving him alone to die at the hands of the vile thing heading their way. While she didn’t make a habit of blatantly going against her father’s wishes, that was exactly what she intended to do. She’d only recently become more comfortable with the idea of being in the water at all, particularly when it involved her head going completely underwater. As her eyes met with those of the skinhead zombie coming to tear her apart, the fear she felt far surpassed anything the water could send her way.

  Taking a huge breath, Lila braced herself for what would come next. As it turned out, diving underwater was easy enough; she hardly had the strength to stay afloat. Keeping herself from panicking, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. She felt around blindly, hoping to find salvation for her father in the underwater realm. Instead, she found only wet nothingness. A low, mechanical whirring sound originated from somewhere directly below her. Frustration set in as her dwindling oxygen reserve reminded her that her time in this place was not infinite. In an act of sheer desperation, she did the one thing she thought she could never do: she opened her eyes.

  Lila wasn’t sure what she expected. Unimaginable pain, maybe instant blindness, but there was neither. Instead, the blackness merely gave way to a dull greenish brown. At first glance, the monotonous expanse offered little to orient her to her surroundings, but she quickly picked up on the subtleties of the submarine world. A shadow slicing through the meager light penetrating the murky water, the bubbles stirred up by frenzied movement, and the distorted sounds of the underwater expanse—these were the clues that led her to a writhing leg and a foot hopelessly wedged between concrete and metal. Working faster than she thought possible, she picked and clawed at the boot’s laces. Untying knots was hard enough when she could see what she was doing, but virtually blind, submerged, and on the verge of asphyxiation, it was nearly impossible. Nevertheless, she willed her hands to keep working even as her brain rallied the rest of her to make for the surface. Mossy green began to go gray around the edges, and she wondered if her eyes were closing. Although her fingers continued moving, she couldn’t tell if she was making any progress. She squinted through the murkiness, but the gray crept forward until it finally washed over her, painting her world in total blackness once again.

  * * * * *

  Eric opened his eyes, and the horrible reality of his situation came crashing in as several things occurred in quick succession. He immediately felt something new going for his leg. Were there real fish in this manmade river? Piranhas, perhaps? He didn’t think it was an underwater zombie, because he felt no additional pain, only a light brush and a gentle tug. When he felt it a second time, the familiar sensation registered in his mind— it was like someone was untying his boot. Lila! Why the hell didn’t I think of that? His foot certainly felt looser when he squirmed and pulled, but still it didn’t break free.

  Like a torpedo, Lila exploded out of the water midway between him and the huge zombie. The violent eruption of something so close spurred the thing onward, and it let out a malicious snarl that chilled Eric more than the river’s chilly water. Although her head settled above water, she made no effort to swim away from the skinhead zombie. Stretching out as far as his trapped leg would allow, his fingertips just reached her shirt, and he pulled her toward him. In a last-ditch effort to save her, he scooped her up and hurled her over his shoulders with all his might. He’d hoped this would give her a head start, but in reality, he’d only managed to throw her a couple of feet.

  “Lila, swim! You have to go! Please!” he cried breathlessly.

  Eric craned his neck but was unable to turn far enough to see where she was; he could only hope that she’d heeded his advice. The zombie was now close enough that he could smell the sickly sweet blood oozing from the myriad flesh wounds visible on the thing’s head and neck. Despite the danger, this made him wonder what additional damage the turbid water might be hiding. As if in slow motion, the skinhead zombie reached out to grab him, and he was surprised to find that he wasn’t scared of what was about to happen. In fact, his mind was completely clear, as though he was at peace with his fate, until Lila’s bloodcurdling cry pierced the air.

  “No! Daddy! No!”

  Eric’s heart shattered into a million pieces at the sound of the heartbreak in his daughter’s voice. Reinvigorated by the emotion, he transferred all his weight onto his trapped leg before planting his free foot on the zombie’s chest. He shoved hard, sending the massive thing stumbling backward, snarling and kicking up water as it did. The torque placed on his trapped ankle sent pulses of pain shooting through his leg. Almost as soon as his free foot was back on the bottom, the undead thing was advancing on him once again. This time the zombie came at him from the side, and he felt its outstretched fingers tighten around his shirt. It had just begun pulling itself in for the kill when Eric felt a stiff jerk and the tension on his shirt ceased. One second, the cold white zombie fingers were clamped tightly just inches from his face; the next, they were gone, inexplicably pulled away along with the zombie they were attached to.

  Dumbfounded, Eric watched as the skinhead zombie moved slowly downstream as though caught in a current that he hadn’t felt during his time in the water. Nevertheless, it was clear that something was dragging the thing against its will, its arms flailing wildly as it moved downstream. The zombie’s bald head dipped underwater intermittently as it struggled against the mysterious force that was dragging it away from the prey that had been so close only a moment ago.

  Still shocked by the close call, Eric stared in disbelief as he tried to process what had happened. After a moment, it dawned on him that the skinhead had crossed over the shallow trench to get back to him after he’d kicked it away. As it did, it must have been snagged by the ride’s automated steering mechanism. He breathed a sigh of relief that proved to be painfully short-lived, as a pair of cold, wet hands wrapped around his neck. They immediately clamped down as though they intended to choke the life out of him rather than tear him to shreds. He twisted and writhed but the thing was on him like a second backpack.

  “Daddy!” Lila cried from her perch on his back. The sound of her sweet voice cut through the panic that had been brewing in Eric’s mind, and he felt his adrenaline start to ebb. He didn’t know how much more of this emotional rollercoaster he could tolerate.

  Breathless and at a loss for words, he shifted her around, and they shared a brief, knowing look that conveyed more than words alone ever could. There was little time to waste, as the rest of the zombie herd was still moving slowly in their direction. He nodded to Lila before dipping underwater to finish the job that she had started. With his boot already untied, he loosened the laces until his ankle slipped out easily. It throbbed like a son of a bitch as he kicked free. No longer constrained by the shape of his foot, he pulled his boot free with surprising ease.

  Less than five seconds later, he was back above water with his boot in hand. Although it hurt to put weight on his ankle, it was nowhere near bad enough to keep him from moving as fast as possible to get out of the water. Glancing downst
ream, he caught sight of the skinhead zombie just before it was pulled around a bend, arms still flailing. A trail of wake followed behind, marking the path of the underwater rail system. With Lila safe on his back, he trudged forward, hoping to find a relatively zombie-free stretch of shoreline upon which to climb out of the cold, murky water. Floating directly in his path, as though patiently waiting to rejoin its owner, was his trusty stick. It felt good in his hand—like a shield, sword, and security blanket all rolled into one ass-kicking club—and he couldn’t help smiling as he pulled it out of the water.

  Waterlogged and exhausted, Eric helped Lila onto the bank before climbing out after her. Pain shot through his ankle with every step. They crawled a few feet before collapsing in the dense underbrush growing along the riverbank. It was cool in the shade, and they shivered as their wet clothes clung to their bedraggled bodies. Even so, Eric couldn’t recall ever being so happy to be on dry land. He didn’t think he would ever go swimming again, and if he never went on a river cruise, it would be too soon.

  Several minutes passed as they listened to the distant noise of the apocalypse. Although the attraction did an excellent job of recreating the feel of the Amazon right down to the artificial soundscape, the zombie’s moans added a distinctly unnatural vibe to the native fauna sounds projecting from the speakers hidden throughout the area. Aside from the occasional screams of pain that periodically punctuated the din, it sounded like a crowd at an unruly sporting event. It seemed far away, and Eric didn’t know if that was truly the case or if all the vegetation merely muffled the horrific sounds. Either way, he was amazed at how seamlessly the constant drone of so many zombies along with the intermittent screams of their victims blended with the manufactured soundscape. If he hadn’t known otherwise, he could’ve almost imagined that the former was due to swarms of ferocious insects and the latter was the screeching of toucans and other exotic birds.