by Kirk Withrow
When Eric was within a few feet of the fallen space waitress, it was all he could do to stifle the puke rising in his gorge. Four zombies remained crouched over the greasy patch of blood-soaked asphalt. If they were aware of his arrival on the scene, they never once broke from their gormandizing to check him out. A humid, metallic, shit smell permeated the air, pressing down upon him like a suffocating, wet blanket. Even though he’d seen where she went down, the woman’s skeleton had been so nearly picked clean, he doubted he would’ve recognized her if it not for the plastic hoops still supporting her tattered silver miniskirt. They wobbled to and fro with every tug on the meager flesh still clinging to her bones. Perhaps most unsettling of all were the sounds the monsters made—gluttonous, sloppy, and unapologetic—like a fat guy with nasal obstruction chewing with his mouth open at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
When the kiosk’s countertop came into view, Eric struggled to keep his breathing in check. Holy shit! It’s working! It’s actually working! His newfound success was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. He was wary given the string of calamities they’d endured since the plague ravaged Fun World. How long ago was that now? It felt like it had been weeks.
Like most things in Fun World, the front of the kiosk was adorned with bright red blood splatters and ruddy brown smears—the latest trend in post-apocalyptic decorating. The countertop was strewn with a bewildering array of pamphlets, brochures, and advertisements. Eric did a quick visual scan but didn’t immediately find what he was looking for. Trying hard not to draw attention to himself, he proceeded to rifle through the papers in search of a Fun World map. The scorching sun beamed down upon him, making him feel as though he were being cooked alive inside the mud shell. As the mud dried, it began to crack and fall away whenever he moved. When he stretched one of his arms particularly far, the majority of the mud flaked off, leaving a significant portion of his bare skin exposed. While he worried that too much skin exposure might lead the zombies to detect there was an impostor in their midst, he prayed that the thin layer of dirt still provided enough camouflage. It was all he could do.
All of a sudden, Eric’s concern about being discovered by the zombie horde was dwarfed by his excitement over finally finding what he’d been seeking: a map of Fun World. He resisted the urge to unfold it and search for the exit right there on the spot. Just as he was about to turn away, he looked up and caught sight of the larger-than-life cardboard Larry the Lion cutout positioned inside the kiosk. The grinning feline was winking while simultaneously firing off double hand pistols—a total cheesedick move. Eric’s lip raised into a slight snarl as his excitement took a steep nosedive. Had anyone been around to see him, it would have been difficult to tell whom he held more disdain for—Larry the Lion or the flesh-eating zombies surrounding him.
16
Hoping to regain his focus, Eric slowly turned toward the fenced construction area. Lila stood just inside the closed gate, looking more like a mud stalagmite than a little girl. The ten or so zombies standing between them still showed no indication that they were aware of their presence. Despite the fear he felt for his daughter, he gave her a slow, deliberate nod. When she reached out and slowly unlatched the gate, he knew she’d received the message. He glanced around in search of a relatively safe place nearby where they could go and look at the map. When nothing stood out to him after a few seconds, he turned his attention back to Lila, who was doing a fairly convincing zombie impersonation in her own right. Whether intentionally or simply due to exhaustion, she swayed slightly from side to side as she doddered along.
Instead of the more direct route that Eric had taken, Lila skirted along the fence, giving wide berth to the zombies still working on the space waitress. Having witnessed that scene up close and personal, he couldn’t blame her for choosing to do so. Directly ahead of her sat a small building that had sold hot, butter-slathered pretzels in the shape of a lion’s head to famished Fun World patrons. Upon reaching it, she turned and crept along the side.
Eric could hardly believe how well things were going, when he caught sight of something that immediately made his skin prickle. Shambling in front of the pretzel shop was a zombie who’d been a petite Asian woman in life. Given how effective the mud had been at concealing them, he wasn’t overly concerned that the zombie was so close to his little girl. What made his blood run cold was the fact that the Asian zombie was on a collision course with Lila, whose gaze was directed toward him rather than the monster approaching her from the side. With gaping burgundy-crusted cavities where her eye had once lived, the Asian zombie didn’t have a gaze at all.
Based on the lack of urgency in each of their strides, Eric didn’t think either was aware of the other’s presence. He desperately wanted to call out to Lila, but fought the urge, knowing that doing so would bring even more zombies down upon them. The numbers shuffling about Future Land had been slowly increasing since the morning, as if the heat of the sun was drawing the undead monsters out of their hiding spots. Instead, he tried in vain to send Lila silent gestures of warning. Time slowed to a crawl as he watched the scene unfold. When Lila flashed him a confused and slightly irritated look, it was immediately clear that she had no idea what he was trying to convey to her. It was also clear that the Asian zombie wasn’t going to alter its course. By the time Eric decided he had to act, it was too late.
Lila passed the pretzel shop one step ahead of the blind zombie. With its next step, the zombie unknowingly kicked the little girl’s rear foot. The impact wasn’t hard but it was unexpected. The little girl’s eyes went wide when she turned and saw the zombie directly behind her. Taken aback by the vile monster, she let out a small squeak that was anything but zombie-like. The blind zombie stiffened and pointed its mangled head in her direction, as though trying to locate her with its blood-encrusted orbits. Lila dared not move, as the monster tried in vain to see what it had felt. The two faced one another unmoving, like gunslingers preparing for a duel.
Time ground to a halt as Eric waited to see whether any of the other nearby zombies had noticed Lila’s yelp. Even by the current standards, the world was uncannily quiet for what felt like an eternity. Just as he finally let out the breath he’d been holding, the Asian zombie parted its lips and let out a low, hissing snarl. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it sounded deafening against the otherwise silent backdrop. A moment later, every zombie within earshot was staring directly at Lila. She, on the other hand, was looking at him with pleading, panic-filled eyes.
Eric instantly read the situation; their cover was blown. In a matter of seconds, every zombie in Future Land would be shambling toward Lila. When that happened, their potential avenues of escape would be cut off one by one until they were completely surrounded by a wall of zombies. Hoping to confuse the walking corpses and divert their attention away from Lila, he yelled, “Run!”
Lila didn’t need to be told twice. She and Eric weaved between the sparsely positioned zombies without issue at first. Although they were far from out of the woods, they breathed a collective sigh of relief when their paths finally merged. The corridor they still had to navigate was roughly a hundred yards long and was steadily narrowing due to the advancing zombies. Running hand in hand, they dodged and sidestepped reaching hands as they outpaced the undead monsters.
As they neared the end of the thoroughfare, Eric felt a sharp tug on his hand. He was alarmed when he could no longer see Lila out of the corner of his eye. Glancing down, he realized she had stumbled over one of the many trolley rails cut into the asphalt. Her dead weight caused him to stagger, but he didn’t fall. He barely slowed as he pulled up on her arm and hoisted her back to her feet.
“I got you,” Eric said as she regained her footing.
No sooner than he’d finished speaking, he was hurtling headlong through the air. His arms pinwheeled comically before he slammed onto the pavement. The black asphalt, warm from the sun’s intense heat, grated his skin as he skidded to a halt. His first thought was of Lila. He
rolled onto his back and was relieved to see that she was still on her feet. A second later, the furious signals of a million pissed off pain receptors flooded his brain, drowning everything else out. Raw and exposed, the nerve endings in his skin felt as though they were under attack by a swarm of angry yellow jackets on steroids. Tiny prickles of heat welled up just beneath the wall of pain as the first spots of blood rose to the surface of his damaged skin. It was excruciating and he wanted to cry out in agony. When he saw the horror that had caused him to trip, however, his throat tightened, making sound production all but impossible.
Scattered across the asphalt, steadily trying to claw its way to Eric, were the remains of what had once been a middle-aged man. Now the ruined mess was an abomination the likes of which he couldn’t have fathomed in his worst nightmare. Exposed ribs and spine protruded from its torso that was nearly split in two. Where its back had been broken, there was a six-inch gap between its spinal nub and pelvis. Stretched almost to the point of snapping as it dragged its useless lower half along, its spinal cord was the only thing holding the two halves together. Sinewy trails of intestines spilled out of its abdominal cavity, giving the zombie the appearance of a beached Portuguese man-of-war. Swollen and distended in the heat of the sun, the loops of intestines looked as though they might explode at any moment. The dismembered zombie didn’t seem to notice any of it. Its mouth opened and closed as if tasting the air, and malicious hunger filled its blackened eyes. When it caught the scent of Eric’s blood, the already agitated zombie’s movement became electrified.
Pain surged through Eric’s body as he pushed himself up to his hands. A sticky paint can explosion of red covered the ground like some macabre zombie play mat. The sickening smell of blood and shit baking on the hot street permeated the air. Despite his best effort, he added the smell of vomit to the already disgusting milieu. Any notion that they were home free was purged alongside his stomach contents. For what felt like the hundredth time since the Happy Little World ride, the harsh reality of the situation hit him like a dead blow hammer. As much as he would’ve liked to bury his head and pretend it wasn’t happening, he knew that would spell death for both of them. It didn’t matter that there was no version of the world where this thing should exist; there it was, hissing and snarling like a feral animal as it slowly dragged itself toward him.
Mustering all the strength he could, Eric scrambled backward on all four like a crab escaping an oncoming wave. He collided with Lila, who was coming to help him back to his feet. The sheer look of terror in his eyes took her by surprise, and he prayed she hadn’t seen the disemboweled monster sprawled across the pavement. It was a ghastly visual that he knew he would be seeing nightly for many years to come, assuming he lived that long. Hoping to spare her that torment, he did his best to block her line of sight as he scrambled to his feet.
“Come on! We need to keep moving! We’re almost there!” Eric implored, limping away from the eviscerated fiend that had nearly cost him his life. Even as he said it, he wasn’t sure where there was exactly. He had the map and he knew where he wanted to go, but he hadn’t had time to figure out any of the steps in between.
One thing was clear; the situation in Future Land was deteriorating rapidly. Hungry moans grew louder all around as more zombies came to investigate the commotion. Thoroughfares that had been empty earlier in the morning were now teeming with zombies. Adding to the chaos, the distant popping of small arms fire returned along with the low rumble of air traffic overhead.
The abrasions on Eric’s arms and legs throbbed with every step. With the zombies steadily closing in, he didn’t have the luxury of slowing to ease the pain. Quite simply, living meant moving, and moving meant pain. Needless to say, when he saw an abandoned UTV parked about twenty yards ahead, his entire aching body virtually leapt for joy. Like a beefed-up golf cart with a pickup bed, the vehicle looked as though it had been used to haul trash. Although there were several zombies between them and the vehicle, the area immediately around the UTV was clear. Remembering the man in the pickup truck, he knew they couldn’t use it to drive out of Fun World, but he hoped it could at least get them to a safer place.
Compelled by the prospect of scoring a ride away from the zombie horde, Eric willed his legs to pump harder despite the pain. He tried not to think about the possibility that the keys might not be in the vehicle or that it might not even run. Whenever one of the zombies got too close for comfort, his heart yearned for his trusty club. As he had been unable to reach the shotgun he’d seen from the lighthouse, the club had been his faithful brother in arms until Emily had snatched it away from him. Although he still had a knife in his backpack, he’d found the club far more effective when facing multiple zombies, particularly in close quarters. If there was only a single zombie and the situation called for stealth, the knife was ideal. In such a scenario, the blade getting stuck in a bit of thick bone was of little consequence. In the middle of a horde, it could be the difference between living and dying. The knife was no match for the club’s reckless brutality. So he pressed forward, clearing his path with a well-placed front kick or shoulder bump.
When they were less than ten yards away from the UTV, they heard a high-pitched squeal like that of a little girl who’d just had her pigtails yanked by the class bully. A second later, a short-statured person dressed from head-to-toe in a Larry the Lion costume came barreling around the corner with at least a dozen zombies on his tail. Despite the effeminate cry, the person spewed a string of profanity in a clearly male voice. The diminutive man moved with surprising speed considering the burdensome suit. Given that the costume covered every inch of his skin, Eric wondered if he’d continued to wear the suit for protection against zombie bites or if he was just that much of a douchebag. Either way, the whole scene was surreal, and had there not been dozens of zombies trying to eat him, Eric would have simply stopped to see how it unfolded.
Following the lion’s trajectory, Eric quickly realized where he was headed. As he watched, he couldn’t help but think that it was the same asshole he’d waited with Lila to see, only to be snubbed when they neared the front of the line. The thought made him all the more enraged. You’ve got to be kidding me! You better not—you fuzzy, feline fuck… A second later, the lion slid his furry ass into the driver’s seat. A zombie shambled toward the driver’s side door with both arms clumsily extended like every stereotypical Hollywood zombie. The lion raised one furry paw and planted a solid front kick in the zombie’s chest. He chuckled in a very un-lionly way as the zombie fell to the ground. When the engine turned over, the lion let out a shrieking cackle that was more reminiscent of a hyena than the king of the jungle.
Just before Larry the Lion pulled away in Eric’s escape vehicle, the feline glanced over his shoulder. Eric fixed his gaze on the lion’s permanently gaping eyes and shook his head in disbelief at the lion’s audacity. Not surprisingly, the lion’s shit-eating grin never faltered. When it was obvious that the lion had no intention of surrendering the vehicle, Eric yelled, “I saw it first, you furry bastard!”
The sunlight hit the lion’s face in such a way that Eric swore he could see the man behind the mask shoot him a grin that indicated he would be more inclined to piss on an electric fence than risk his skin to help him and his daughter. As if his position needed clarification, the lion barked, “Go find your own ride, asshole!” He’d barely finished his words before he was maneuvering the UTV through the encroaching horde.
Despite everything Eric had seen and done since zombies took over Fun World, this was the thing that nearly pushed him over the edge—his proverbial tipping point. He hadn’t battled zombie after zombie in an effort to keep his daughter safe only to end up dead because some guy in a lion suit was a selfish prick. Like an NFL running back, he picked a line through the tightening glut of monsters standing between him and the fleeing UTV. Gripping Lila’s hand tightly, he took off at a sprint heedless of his torn skin, which he could feel cracking and bleeding with every step.
He bobbed and weaved, avoiding the outstretched arms trying to prevent their escape.
Not wanting to be separated from her father yet frightened by the prospect of wading further into the sea of undead monsters, Lila desperately pulled against him. “Just let it go, Daddy. We can find another way. There are too many of them. Please, just let him go!” Her words snaked past the wall of anger in Eric’s mind. He heard the fear in her voice, and on some level, he recognized the rationality of what she said. The zombies closed in tighter with each step he took toward the receding UTV. With his every thought filtered through the red curtain of rage that had descended over him, he couldn’t see that the risk outweighed the reward. He absolutely wanted to escape from Fun World, but even more than that, he wanted to tear the lion’s limbs off and feed them to the zombies one by one. At that moment, he was the swift hand of justice, and he wanted to make Larry the Lion pay for his every transgression. No, he needed to make him pay.
Lila pulled back and zombies pressed in as Eric watched the UTV pull farther and farther away. With his fury at its boiling point, he pushed forward with everything he had. A second later, an earsplitting, whirring sound materialized out of nowhere. Instinctively, Eric and Lila ducked, while the zombies reflexively craned their stiff necks skyward. Only Larry the Lion seemed unaware of the menacing helicopter that had appeared in their midst. A moment later, a furious roar heralded the firing of several hydra rockets, which blazed angrily across the sky.