Fun World

by Kirk Withrow

  Frank felt something digging into the small of his back, and recognition hit him. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he shoved outward with all his might and managed to knock the undead back a few inches. In the brief moment before they came crashing back into him, he reached behind and felt the doorknob that had been grinding against his spine. He turned the knob and was immediately driven backward by the force of the advancing horde. Off-balance, he fell to the floor.

  Like a tsunami victim staring helplessly at the impenetrable wall of water about to crash down upon him, he expected to see the mass of zombies about to swallow him when he looked up. Much to his surprise and relief, the closest two zombies hit the doorway at exactly the same time, creating a bottleneck that momentarily precluded either from passing through the doorway. They formed a sort of zombie dam that held the rest of monsters at bay. The slightest flicker of hope swelled within Frank, and seizing the brief window of opportunity, he leapt up and slammed the door on the struggling monsters. A flailing arm poked in from the other side, the only thing standing between him and relative safety. He drove his full body weight into the door repeatedly, feeling the bone crunch and crack before ultimately becoming mushy. With one last heave, he threw himself against the door and felt the click of the latch engaging.

  Heavy fists thudded against the door as Frank collapsed onto the floor, exhausted beyond imagination. The dark room smelled of chemicals and disinfectants, and though he could see no details, the reverberations made the room feel cramped. He felt around him but found nothing that helped orient him to his surroundings. When he finally climbed back to his feet, his head collided with damp, stringy tendrils that made him drop like a rock back to the floor in hopes of getting as far away from whatever horror he’d just encountered as possible. Back flattened against the wall, he held his breath and waited for the monsters lurking in the shadows to come take his life. When no such thing happened and the details of his surroundings came into focus, he realized that he was inside one of the sanitation rooms. A broom closet? You’ve got to be kidding me. He watched in horror as the fingers attached to the zombie’s crushed arm twitched as though someone on the other side was controlling them with marionette strings.

  The banging intensified, and it seemed like each vibration displaced a little more air from within the tiny room, making it increasingly difficult to breath. How long can I survive in here? A day? A week? Will I even be able to tell with no frame of reference? It was a terrifying thought. Of all the possible ways to die, Frank could never have imagined it would be alone in a dark broom closet with a swarm of undead tourists trying to tear him limb from limb just outside the door. Even as the first tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, he couldn’t help but laugh at the insanity of it all. Perhaps the zombie apocalypse had driven him to the brink of madness, but he sensed that Betty was nearby.

  “I did everything I could to help them, honey. I hope you’re proud of me. It won’t be long until we’re together again,” Frank said into the darkness, his voice thick with emotion. Like the other half of a call and response song, the zombies’ efforts to breach the door intensified upon hearing the old man’s voice. He tilted his head back and looked toward the ceiling—toward his darling, Betty. As recognition of what he was seeing slowly came to him, his tear-stained eyes brightened and his smile widened.

  15

  From the moment they climbed over the railing and into the woods, Eric might as well have been blind given how little he could see. Although the moon shone dimly in the night sky, almost no light penetrated the dense forest canopy. Every step in which he remained upright felt like a small victory as vines and brambles tried to bring him down with every footfall. Even with a defensive hand extended in front of him, unseen branches and spiderwebs brushed against his face as he moved through the thick forest. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, bringing with it the occasional scent of the zombies he knew were lurking hidden in the darkness. The nocturnal forest possessed a hollow, otherworldly sound that was alternately punctuated by the intermittent pop of small arms fire from the barricade and something akin to an ominous death rattle heard from a distance. Taken as a whole, it was unsettling, and he tried to focus on the ebb and flow of his heavy breathing as a means of blocking it out.

  All of a sudden, the darkness gave way to light as an intense white flash rent a hole in the blackness. The sound of ragged breathing and distant gunfire was supplanted by high-pitched ringing. Spots of nearly every color accompanied the darkness when it slowly crept back in. Eric thought of Lila and squeezed his hand tightly to avoid losing track of her again. Panic swept over him when his grip closed around something cold and soft. Only when the earthy smell of the forest floor reached his brain did he realize he was lying on the ground. What happened? Who had the flashlight? Dazed and confused, he registered a sharp pain in his head at the same time he felt something warm running down his face. When the blood reached his mouth, it had a distinct metallic taste that made him queasy.

  Breathing hard, he cried, “Lila! Where are you?” His voice was loud in comparison to the silent forest, but the dense foliage had an attenuating effect that seemed to swallow his words almost as soon as they were spoken.

  “Shhhhhh!” The girl’s terse reply came immediately. It was impossible to pinpoint the direction from which it came, but it sounded close. He listened intently in hopes of hearing anything that might help him zero in on her location. Instead, what he heard was so much worse. Callous moans came from nearly every direction, creating a virtual wall of death all around him.

  As Eric stared blindly into the abyss, some sounds came and went while others repeated with an awkward irregularity that could only come from something not entirely human. Every leaf rustle and twig snap drew his attention. He desperately wanted to call out to Lila again, but his mind had cleared enough to realize that wasn’t a good idea. To his right, he heard something scuttling toward him, but unlike the other sounds, it was faster and more deliberate as it continued in his direction. It was upon him before he could even react. Something took hold of his shirt, pulling as though trying to drag him away or tear his shirt off.

  “They’re all around us. We have to hide,” Lila said quietly. Despite her soft tone, there was urgency behind her words. Even so, he felt the tension flood out of his body as though a drainage valve had just been opened once he realized she was safe.

  Eric’s first inclination was to stand up and run like hell in hopes of escaping the zombie horde. Given that he still couldn’t make out much detail regarding his surroundings, the odds of running straight into the gaping maws of a zombie lurking in the shadows seemed unacceptably high. As such, he acquiesced, allowing Lila to drag him to a deadfall tree she’d discovered a few yards away. It had fallen in such a manner that it left a narrow gap between it and the forest floor. It would be cramped, but there was just enough space for them to take refuge. Lying flat on their backs and end-to-end, they wriggled into the dark cranny with their heads facing one another.

  No sooner than they’d settled in under the deadfall, the first zombie shambled past them less than a foot away. Many others followed in what seemed like an unending river of death flowing around their makeshift shelter. One zombie moved perpendicular to the deadfall, tripping over the log and sending a shower of dirt and bark raining down upon them. The debris made Eric want to cough and claw at his eyes but he managed to stay quiet and motionless. He tensed and readied himself to fight as he stared at the silhouette, waiting to see what the clumsy zombie was going to do next. Fortunately, the zombies shambling toward the gunfire swept up the clumsy zombie as soon as it climbed back to its feet.

  For the next couple of hours, the situation remained fairly static. Occasionally, only one or two zombies could be heard moving through the forest, but most of the time it sounded like there were many more. Drawn to the noise in the distance, they shambled around the deadfall in a slow, steady stream, passing on both the high and low side. When a zombie clad
in a shimmering silver jumpsuit that glistened in the moonlight stopped and craned its neck in their direction, Eric’s chest tightened. Slowly, the monster turned to investigate further, stooping down with its chin jutted outward as though sniffing the air as it lumbered over to the fallen tree. For their part, Eric and Lila remained deathly quiet and just as still.

  Unsure of what had piqued the zombie’s interest, Eric tried not to think about how vulnerable they were hiding under the log. He quickly considered his options and realized they were very few. He could stay concealed and hope to remain undiscovered, or crawl out from under the deadfall and face the approaching zombie. A single zombie wasn’t much trouble; the real problem would be the others slinking around the area. A group of zombies presented a far more dangerous situation, and with the darkness and the uneven forest floor, things became even trickier. The one that gets you is always the one you don’t see.

  To complicate matters even further, he had to consider Lila’s safety in the context of both options. Unfortunately, in the time it took him to decide that the best option was to take out the lone curious zombie before it discovered them, it had moved so close that it effectively eliminated that as a safe and feasible plan of action.

  Judging by the fact that it seemed to be drawn to the log like a magnet, Eric assumed the zombie somehow sensed they were close by. On several occasions, it walked right into the dead tree as though trying to walk through it. While it continued to moan much like the other zombies he’d encountered at Fun World, this one made a strange snorting sound that he hadn’t heard before. It was like that of someone struggling to smell while suffering from a severe cold. The tight space under the deadfall tree exuded a musty, earthen smell like peat moss baking in the hot sun. It was strong but nowhere near strong enough to overcome the nauseating scent that accompanied the zombie now within arm’s reach. The zombie’s stench wasn’t that of decay as he had expected; he’d had the misfortune of experiencing that on several occasions throughout his career. Instead, it was a pungent, sickly odor that seemed to stop just short of moldering death—like a gastrointestinal bleed, a gut shot, and a severe burn all rolled into one.

  At one point, Eric stifled a gasp when the toe of the zombie’s shoe actually touched his shoulder. He prayed that Lila would remain calm and stay quiet as he poised for the thing to dive on him. When nothing happened after nearly fifteen minutes, he began to speculate about how long the zombie would remain on the hunt if it didn’t locate them. Indefinitely? He wondered if anything short of another human was capable of overpowering whatever signal was keeping it there in the first place. Not knowing what that was, he had no answer. His back ached intensely from the cramped, awkward position on the hard ground.

  For unknown reasons, the zombie appeared to meander away on occasion, only to return to the same spot a minute or so later. When another zombie joined the first, Eric’s sense of desperation intensified. What the hell is keeping these bastards here? Given that the zombies had yet to locate them, he didn’t think the things had seen them, and neither he nor Lila had made a sound since crawling under the log. That left only the sense of smell, which Eric imagined wasn’t that keen, as the best the zombie seemed capable of doing was getting in the ballpark. This made sense given that humans generally possessed only a fraction of the smell found in most other animals.

  The hours wore on as the zombies holding them captive dutifully kept their post. Left alone with his thoughts, Eric contemplated their situation, which felt increasingly dire with each passing minute. Thanks to the barricade, his original plan of waltzing right out the front door was a bust. Now he wasn’t exactly sure how to get out of the park. A large fence surrounded Fun World, and it seemed likely that the perimeter would be closely monitored. Given what he’d witnessed when the man tried to flee in the truck, he knew the soldiers weren’t simply going to let them walk out unscathed. Intermittent bursts of gunfire coming from various sections of the park likely meant that there were units constantly patrolling the boundaries of the quarantine zone. Another unsettling change was the presence of increased activity in the air. Jets could be heard passing high overhead, while the whir of helicopter blades was becoming a constant fixture in the skies above Fun World. There seemed to be fewer zombies shambling through the park compared to the first day, perhaps owing to the grisly work done by the soldiers at the barricade. Even so, he knew it only took one bite, and there were still plenty ready and willing to deliver said bite. Things weren’t looking great, and he couldn’t help feeling increasingly fucked.

  The distant gunfire had dwindled considerably during the time under the deadfall, and the sky grew lighter as the sun marched steadily toward its zenith. Eric worried that they might soon be discovered without the cover of darkness to protect them. He also worried that he would be too stiff to move let alone fight when he finally crawled out of the cramped space. Just when he thought their situation couldn’t get any worse, he heard a low rumble followed by the first drops of rain. In a matter of moments, it went from a light drizzle to a torrential downpour, complete with thunder and lightning. He and Lila were quickly soaked as a shallow pool formed around them.

  Much to Eric’s surprise, the two zombies started to lose interest in the downed log shortly after the thunderstorm began. During the brief lulls in the rain and thunder, he no longer heard the snorting sound that he’d heard initially. He risked poking his head out slightly and noticed the zombies seemed completely disoriented. When he thought about it, he suspected this was due in part to the light and noise that accompanied the thunderstorm, but he couldn’t help but think that the rain itself had a masking effect on Lila and his scent.

  One particularly bright lightning flash caused the zombie pair to turn away in unison. When the loud thunderclap followed a second later, they staggered off in the direction of the lighting flash but this time did not immediately return. When they were roughly ten feet away, Eric craned his neck around and said, “Now’s our chance to get out of here. You ready?”

  His question was a rhetorical one as Eric was prepared to carry her if necessary; he had to get out of the cramped, wet hole at any cost. The storm seemed to be intensifying, and he waited for the next peal of thunder to make his move. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long, as the sky grew as light as day a few seconds later.

  “Now,” Eric whispered as he wriggled out from beneath the deadfall. His aching muscles struggled to comply with his demands, while nearly every joint in his body popped loud enough that he worried the zombies would turn to investigate. Finally free, he winced as he rose to his feet, pausing momentarily with the stooped over posture of an old man before standing fully upright. Unaffected by the simple act of standing up, Lila stared at him, patiently awaiting his next move. Seeing her eye him, he thought about telling her that youth was a fickle bitch and that her time was coming, but he decided to keep his whining to himself.

  The next time lightning illuminated the surrounding area, Eric was relieved not to see any undead lurking in the woods ahead. Taking Lila by the hand, he struck a balance between speed and stealth as they wove through the trees, away from the deadfall, and away from the waning bursts of gunfire. Less than five minutes later, they arrived at a railing much like the one they’d climbed over near the tunnel access door.

  Crouching just inside the tree line, Eric stared out at the park beyond. Blanketed by a gossamer thin veil of fog and cast in dim, gray, predawn light was the innovative architecture and cosmic kitsch of Future Land—Fun World’s intergalactic, space-themed area. Storefronts and restaurants designed to look like extraterrestrial spaceports and alien outposts lay eerily silent. As he’d grown to expect, he saw no sign of life anywhere, which made the place look like a desolate landscape from the set of an old science fiction movie. Unlike the other sections of the park, however, Future Land’s largely abandoned thoroughfares had very few zombies shuffling through them as far as he could see. Given that it was the first time in what felt like an eternity
that they weren’t in immediate danger of being eaten by zombies, he opened his pack and pulled out a couple of water bottles and a chocolate-covered Larry Bar. They ate and drank as they scanned the area in front of them.

  “That’s odd. Where are all the zombies?” Eric asked, not expecting an answer. Several more pops echoed through the forest behind them before the world around them fell quiet once again.

  Situated between them and Future Land was a twenty-foot-wide construction zone that was enclosed by a tall chain-link fence. At present, it was little more than a muddy patch of earth marred with deep ruts and pocks, many of which were filled with water from the recent rain. Aside from a backhoe sitting idly in the center, it was empty. The tall fence that had been erected around the periphery to keep errant tourists from wandering on-site also meant that it was free of zombies.

  Eric rolled his eyes when he noticed the graphics on the fabric attached to the opposite side of the fence in an effort to camouflage the temporary eyesore. Larry the Lion sat straddling a rocket headed for outer space in a rather phallic depiction that he was pretty sure was intended to be some sort of subliminal message. The feline had one arm raised above his helmeted head like a drunken space cowboy, while his patented, shit-eating grin sneered out lecherously from behind his face shield. The cringeworthy slogans printed on the mesh were so cheesy he found it hard to imagine that someone actually thought they were a good idea—Roaring Into the Future!; Ready for Takeoff. Destination: FUN!; and, “The Sky’s the Limit!