by Kirk Withrow
Although Eric couldn’t see Lila beyond the wall of fabric, her screams told him she was just on the other side of the zombie triplets. Not wasting a second, he lunged forward. The tip of his kitchen knife found the soft spot where the spine connected to the base of the skull, and the blade plunged nearly to the hilt, silencing the first zombie princess instantly. He let go of the knife as he pivoted to the left, bringing the stick around to take out the legs of the middle zombie. While he knew it wouldn’t put her down permanently, he hoped to drop her long enough to deal with the third undead princess. Having expected a satisfying dull thud, he was surprised by the rather hollow-sounding thwack. Although he’d put every ounce of his strength into the blow, he felt the force of his swing rapidly dissipate when it met the mitigating force of the princess’ evening gown and its underlying reinforcement. When the club finally made contact with the zombie’s undoubtedly spindly legs, it had so little steam left that it barely knocked her to the side. Rather than collapsing to the ground, the undead princess turned and snarled at him, as though enraged that he’d risked damaging her elaborate costume.
“Oh, fuck,” Eric muttered, as he took a small step back to avoid the rebounding dress.
Lila screamed once again, filling him with renewed urgency. Hoping to avoid a repeat of his previous mistake, he fired a stout front kick that landed just above the thing’s narrow waist. As there was virtually no padding over its midsection, he felt as though his foot sank deep enough to touch the zombie’s spine before sending the monster flying backwards. The preposterously large gown proved as troublesome to its zombie owner as it had been to Eric, making it virtually impossible for the undead princess to climb back to its feet. A crushing blow to the head a moment later made it a moot point.
While Eric was busy with the first two zombies, the third one fell on top of Lila. She struggled to hold it off as it pressed its disgusting mouth closer in hopes of sinking its teeth into her soft flesh. As it did, it let out a strained, raspy hiss due to the compression of its voice box against Lila’s forearm. Thick tendrils of saliva hung from its gaping maw, slowly inching toward her face under gravity’s relentless force. The meager light reflected off the faux diamonds in the zombie’s tiara, causing it to sparkle brilliantly in stark contrast to the monster’s bloodstained teeth.
Although Lila still gripped the kitchen knife firmly in her other hand, she felt powerless to use it. Despite knowing exactly what the monster wanted to do to her, the idea of intentionally killing something—even something so reprehensible—proved nearly impossible for her to reconcile. Mouth agape, the zombie’s bared teeth crept closer as her arm grew steadily weaker. Just before her muscles gave out completely, she brought the blade up, pressing it against the zombie’s neck in order to assist her fatigued arm.
Undaunted, the undead princess continued driving into her, forcing the blade deeper into the thin skin of its neck. Cool, dark fluid flowed along the blade, onto the handle, and down Lila’s arm. It was a disgusting, unnatural feeling that made her cringe. She felt her extended arms beginning to give way under the zombie’s weight. When her father had given her the knife, she’d imagined she was being asked to hold a tool for him until he was ready to use it, as she’d done countless times before. She hadn’t looked at it as something she would put to use until that moment. In truth, were it not for the zombie’s continued attempts to reach her, she doubted she would’ve done so even then.
Lila’s initial fear quickly faded, only to be replaced by a burning desire to kill the monster on top of her—only, the thing wouldn’t die. She’d seen her father stab them in the eye and thought maybe that was the way to send the monster to its happily ever after. The only problem was that the knife digging into its neck was the only thing keeping the monster off her. If she moved the knife, she would surely be bitten.
The zombie made a strange hissing sound as its teeth clacked together less than three inches from her face. The thick string of drool she’d been watching still hung precariously from the corner of its bloody mouth, threatening to break free and land on her face at any moment. She noticed the zombie’s smeared makeup and thought how strange it was to see a zombie in makeup. As its face pressed closer, the tenacious band of spittle finally reached her cheek, creating a connection between them in a sick sort of way. At that point, Lila knew it was over. There would be flesh between the monster’s teeth the next time it snapped its gnashing jaws closed—her flesh. She closed her eyes to await the inevitable.
Albeit jarring, the sudden jolt Lila experienced next wasn’t at all what she had anticipated. There was no pain, just the sensation of all the pressure finally being taken away. It was rather pleasant compared to what she’d just been experiencing, and it made her wonder if she should’ve stopped resisting sooner. What she saw when she opened her eyes was also much different from what she expected. The zombie princess actually seemed to be levitating above her, as if under a wizard’s magical spell. There was a loud grunt—almost a growl—as the zombie flew over the railing. It plummeted head first before slamming into one of the heavy wooden tables and snapping its neck instantly. Aside from its gnashing jaws, the thing didn’t move again.
The next thing Lila saw was her father, breathing heavily from exertion, as a shadowy figure rushed him from the side.
“Daddy! Look out!” Lila bellowed.
Eric pivoted just in time to see the zombie prince barreling toward him, looking to avenge the death of its damsels in distress. He crouched down and swung hard.
CRACK!
He felt the unsettling crunch of bone giving way before the zombie’s legs left the ground. The undead fiend landed squarely on its ass but was immediately scrambling back to its feet. Before it managed to get halfway up, Eric brought the knife around and plunged it into its temple. Prince Charming shuddered momentarily and then went limp. Even in death, not a hair on the undead prince’s well-coiffed hair was out of place.
Eric stood and went to Lila. “Are you okay, sweetie? Those evil bitches didn’t bite you, did they?” Although there was genuine concern in his voice, she also heard the undercurrent of fear behind his words.
Lila took a deep breath and rubbed her face as if to check to be sure of her answer. “No, I wasn’t bitten.” He breathed a huge sigh of relief, but before he could say anything else, she added, “You know that’s a bad word, right?” Her words caught him off guard, and he stared back at her like a boy that had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinnertime. He opened his mouth but only managed to stand there dumbly like a frog waiting to catch a fly. “Well, I never liked her movie, anyway,” Lila added matter-of-factly.
It took a moment for her words to percolate through his addled brain. Eric burst out laughing, unable to contain himself. He didn’t know if it was due to the absurdity of what she’d said or if it was just his way of dealing with the insanity of it all, but at that moment, everything seemed hysterical. When he finally caught his breath and wiped the tears from his eyes, he grabbed Lila and held her in a tight embrace.
Even though he’d been laughing like a hippie on nitrous, what they’d survived inside the Princess Palazzo was without a doubt the most terrifying thing they’d experienced since becoming trapped inside Fun World. Not only had death come so close to both of them, but Lila had been forced to take up her weapon in self-defense as well. He couldn’t imagine the mix of emotions running through her head, not to mention the fact that princesses had likely been ruined for her forever. The more he thought about it, he realized that princesses might actually be the new clowns. In fact, it seemed impossible for a children’s character to be any more terrifying than the three they’d just dispatched.
Given that the royal zombie gang had come out of nowhere, Eric decided to conduct a more thorough sweep of the floor to ensure there were no more surprises lurking in the shadows or hiding in any of the adjoining rooms. When he was satisfied that they were the floor’s only occupants, they set about creating a makeshift
perimeter alarm to serve as an early warning system should anyone or anything try to sneak up on them in the night. He tied a length of ribbon he’d found with a box of uninflated balloons across the opening of each staircase at about knee level. Lila gathered a half dozen spoons, and Eric bent the ends to create a hook on each of them. After hanging three spoons on each of the ribbons, they made an elevated perch upon which they sat a drinking glass below each spoon. The glasses were positioned such that the hanging spoons rested against the inside. Even a small disturbance of the ribbon caused the metal utensils to clang against the glass.
Pleased with the primitive warning system, Eric moved several tables and chairs to create a barricade that would further slow the advance of anything that tried to make its way to the second floor. He hoped these measures would give them the additional time needed to escape safely should the need arise. While clearing the floor, he’d discovered a small storage room and administrative office discretely tucked into the wall on the side opposite the character dressing rooms. Inside, he found several large boxes of T-shirts promoting the upcoming “Princess Week.” He removed his tattered shirt and tried not to think about how painful that event would be as he slipped a pink shirt that read Princess Power over his head. He used the remainder of the shirts to make Lila a pallet on the office’s floor. She was asleep before her head hit the T-shirt pillow.
Eric settled into the stiff desk chair, intent on keeping watch over his daughter as she slept. Outside, the sun had dipped below the horizon. Very little light made it to the second floor, and even less made it into the windowless room. As scary as that was, he wasn’t sure he would’ve risked turning on the lights even if he could for fear of alerting any other zombies to their presence. Given that his cell phone battery had died and it was dark inside the office, he had no way to know what time it was. Exhausted and unable to resist sleep’s powerful pull, he, too, was asleep within minutes.
Eric awoke to darkness nearly as intense as that in which he’d fallen asleep. Though he didn’t recall closing it, a faint glow filtered in from beneath the door. Lila’s heavy breaths told him that she was still soundly asleep. For that he was thankful; she’d been beyond exhausted and definitely needed the rest. Hoping not to wake her, he quietly reflected on the previous day’s events before trying to devise a plan to get them out of the park. Several minutes later, a deep, rasping groan rose out of the darkness, sending a burst of adrenaline through his body. He’d heard that sound and he knew what it meant. This time, however, it was followed by a huge yawn and a little girl’s sweet voice.
“Daddy?”
Relieved, Eric sank back into the chair, letting his knife fall to his side in the process. “I’m here. Good morning, sweetie,” he replied, his heart still racing a million miles per hour.
Lila stood up and stretched like a cat that had been asleep for days. Every muscle and bone in Eric’s body ached as he climbed to his feet. He had no idea how long they’d been in the office, but the light under the door told him it was daytime. They emerged from the room to find the second floor bathed in light. Squinting, they stared out at the carnage littering the dining area. The crumpled mounds of pastel-colored lace on the far side of the room like two poorly hidden Easter eggs reminded them of their close call from the previous day. Fortunately, they heard no sound and saw no movement. They sat down and picked through the meager contents of Eric’s pack. After eating a snack, they found a pitcher of water waiting to be served to guests that would never come. It looked clean and they drank every ounce of it.
Feeling better after the rest and rations, Eric and Lila cautiously climbed over the makeshift barricade. As an afterthought, Eric nudged the ribbon, causing the spoons to clink against the drinking glasses. After ringing the proverbial dinner bell, he waited for any reply from within the restaurant. When none came, they slowly crept downstairs. The first floor was even more wrecked than the second. They passed the smashed body of the zombie princess that had nearly taken Lila’s life. The huge pile of beautiful, white satin and lace billowed off the table like a thick of meringue atop a broken princess pie.
Moving slowly so as to avoid the shattered glass and other debris littering the floor, they crept toward the front of the restaurant. The bright sunlight filtering in made it easy for them to see out while keeping them fairly obscured in darkness. Eric’s heart sank at the sight of roughly fifty zombies shuffling around in front of the restaurant. They were still heading west, though with less speed and fewer numbers than he’d observed the previous day.
Behind him, Lila said, “What was that? Did you hear it?”
Eric turned to see Lila peering into a dark corner on the left side of the dining hall. He hadn’t heard or seen anything.
“No. What?” he asked in a whisper.
Before Lila could reply, he heard it for himself. A faint whimper followed by the slightest sniffle came from somewhere deep in the shadows. It was quiet, but there was no doubt it was a human sound. Thinking back to the girl in the crowd he’d tried to help on the first day, Eric crept forward cautiously.
“Is anyone there? We’re friendly. Do you need help? We don’t have a lot of supplies but I’m a medic,” Eric said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice.
There was no reply, though it seemed somehow quieter, as if someone had heard him and was focusing on not making any sound. He took another tentative step forward and still there was nothing. If someone was there, he wanted to find them, but he didn’t want to cause a repeat of the girl in the crowd. The image of one terrified girl was more than enough to haunt his nightmares for an entire lifetime. He was about to inform whoever was lurking in the shadows that he was going to back away and leave them be when Lila spoke.
“Dad, I think they’re probably just scared. Maybe it’s a little kid or something.”
There was another sniffle in response to her words, this time slightly louder than the first. A moment later, there was an indistinct movement in the restaurant’s deeply shadowed recesses. It was too subtle to say who or what caused it, but there was a definite shift in the ill-defined shapes, a momentary blurring of the room’s grayscale palette.
Turning toward the shadows, Lila said, “It’s ok. We’re not going to hurt you. My daddy is a good guy. He helps me, and he can help you, too.”
Lila’s gentle words nearly brought a tear to his eye, and he was thankful for the low light that hid his emotions. If there was anyone there, he wanted to maintain a strong front, and getting all teary-eyed wasn’t exactly going to send that vibe. After several seconds, there was more movement followed by the sound of chairs and other furniture sliding on the wooden floor. Muted footsteps and the occasional creak of floorboards told him that whoever had been hiding in the shadows had decided to come out. Eric noticed he was holding his breath as he awaited the emergence of the shadow person.
What he saw a moment later was not what he’d been expecting, though in truth, he didn’t know what that had been exactly. A small-framed female stepped into the light. She kept her eyes down for the most part but occasionally directed them toward Lila. A single sideways glance in Eric’s direction told him she at least knew where he was. Standing perfectly still, he kept quiet as he assessed the woman.
Petite and in her late twenties, the woman was a complete mess. Her face was smeared with makeup, a telltale sign that she’d been crying considerably. Even so, he could tell she was very pretty underneath the smudged mask. Her most striking feature of all, however, was her attire. She wore a Lucy Lion hat, which was essentially a Larry the Lion hat with a pink bow fixed in the middle. Hers had a gossamer veil trailing off the back—a unique addition that clearly designated her as a member of a peculiar group of women that chose to spend their last premarital hurrah with Larry the Lion. I wonder if a male counterpart exists? Surely there can’t be many bachelor parties taking place at Fun World. Images of the Princess Palazzo morphing into a seedy strip club after hours for such occasions flashed through his mind.