by Aline Riva
“Entertainment for all!” he yelled, “Come here and give it a go, poke it with a stick! See if you can get it in the eye! This is free, have a go, lady... What about the kiddies? Let the kiddies have a try!”
Across the street another man was calling, inviting those passing by to jab at the trapped zombies. This was the welcome that opened up the route to Harvey Flint's grand dream now realised: It wasn't just a place with rides and side shows any more – it was a place where the undead were used for amusement...
Through the wide open gateway above a gaily painted sign that said Flint's Grand Monster Fair, down the main pathway that eventually led to the big, colourful circus tent, at the back of the tent where a few caravans sat reserved for live in staff, there was a gold star on the door of a big old white caravan. Above that star and written in black marker pen was the name Cleo Reynolds. But inside the caravan, Cleo was sat at her dressing table, she was in her sparkling black leotard that showed off her shapely hips and it cut low on her cleavage, her black hair fell past her shoulders and the white streak in her hair that was nothing to do with bleach and everything to do with the shock of the apocalypse was sprayed with silver glitter. Her lips were painted red and her eyes were lined with black eyeliner and she didn't look her forty three years, but her eyes were wide with terror and she had felt sick all day, as she did every performance day.
She drew in a deep breath, memorising the terrifying climb as she felt sure Harvey Flint had only given her this shitty job because he knew she wanted a comfortable life and he liked to think he owned her – but everything had a price with Harvey and for her, it was her terror. Cleo was terrified of heights...
“Up the steps... climb the...” she swallowed down the first hint that she might vomit, “Ladder...”she breathed in and out trying to steady shattered nerves, “Zombies on the other platform... I hold on to the handle, close my eyes, hope I don't die... don't look down.... Zombies dangle... shooter on the ground takes them out one rope at a time, I start to lower down...Men on the ground are shooting the zombies as they fall. Last zombie drops, rope slides loose, I slide down the other side, take a bow, leave the ring and throw up...”
Then she heard three heavy knocks on the caravan door and her whole body stiffened. He was going to come in whether she replied or not. Her throat felt tight as she found her voice:
“Come in, Harvey...” she called nervously as her face reflected pale in the mirror.
He opened up the door and entered the room, an athletic, broad shouldered man who wore a bright red old fashioned showman's coat to match the rest of his Victorian attire. Harvey loved to play the role as much as he loved to own this town. She forced a smile.
“What a surprise,” she said, and hoped she sounded like she meant it.
He pulled up a chair and sat beside her, then grabbed the back of her chair and turned it sharply, forcing her to face him.
“You look wonderful! The crowd will love you! By the way, Cleo – I've decided two performances today. One at five and one at seven.... and I've had the platforms raised another five feet...” his eyes sparkled as he laughed, “The audience will love it! If I put you any higher you'll be able to touch the top of the tent!”
Her jaw dropped as her eyes widened and she slowly shook her head.
“No... no higher, please -”
Her words were cut off by his hand clamped roughly about her face, he squeezed and kept her like it as he regarded her with a look of impatience.
“Hard lessons are the best, we learn from them! And if you blink when I squeeze your face you look like a goldfish!”
He let go of her face and laughed as her cheeks hurt and she dared not to show her pain or anger. He got up from the seat and stood behind her, swept her hair out of the way then placed his hands on her shoulders and planted a kiss on the side of her neck. He looked into the mirror, meeting her gaze as something that translated to Harvey as love shone in his eyes.
“After the show, you and I will have a wonderful evening! Dinner, fine wine and then bed...I can't wait!”
She was trying to pull up the courage to force a smile, but even the thought of giving in to his demands later on was nothing compared to the thought of facing the height of that platform not once but twice in an evening...
Then there was a knock on the door of the caravan.
“Mr Flint!”
His smile vanished as sure as the light in his eyes turned dark.
“Shit!” he said through gritted teeth as he took his hands off her shoulders and left the room, “I give these people everything they need! Why do they still come running to me?” he complained, throwing the door open wide and glaring down at the two armed men who stood outside.
“What do you want now?” he snapped.
“Sir, a small party of strangers approached town... Mundy took them in. He fired shots at us.”
“Mundy fired at you? That's not part of our agreement! Where is he now?”
“He took the strangers into the mall,” the other guy said.
Anger sparked in Flint's gaze.
“Wait for today's perimeter patrol change shifts then go with them - and take the van – I want those strangers brought in. And bring Mundy too, he's got some explaining to do!”
As they said Yes sir and hurried off, Flint stood in the doorway of the caravan, looking towards the edge of town in the far distance, from here he could not see the mall but his blood was boiling at the thought of what had happened: Mundy had shot at his men. That was against the law, he was the only law in this town. No one broke Flint's law...
Chapter 2
The wound looked raw. Seeing his son's injury made the pain transfer to his own arm much like it had in the moments after he realised he had been hit by that bullet. Greg was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, his son was beside him and looking away as he opened up the medical bag and found the alcohol wipes.
“Will it hurt?”
Zodiac's voice sounded so small all of a sudden. Then the boy gave a sob and looked back at his father.
“Daddy, I don't want it if it stings!”
Greg put down the sealed wipe and gave a heavy sigh. Back in the old days before the dead had taken over, he had thought he had everything he would ever want in life, wealth, a big house, even his own helicopter... But his son was worth a million times any of the luxuries he had held dear back in those days. It had suddenly occurred to him that Zodiac didn't recall the old world – he was an apocalypse child...
“Zodiac,” he said gently, “The world isn't the same as it was when I was growing up. We didn't have to worry about zombies. There were no living dead, they didn't exist. People could go to the shops, go to work, kids could walk to school on their own -”
“With no guns?”
“No guns,” he confirmed, as his son's eyes widened in surprise, “And because this world has changed boys have to grow up quicker, they have to be men a lot sooner. They have to be brave. I didn't think I was brave when I was injured escaping the oil rig. But everyone else tells me I was very brave. I think now I'm used to trying to have courage because without it, we wouldn't be able to survive in this world. And yes, I'm sorry, but this will hurt. It's going to hurt a lot more than when I cleaned the wound. A lot more than you said it hurt when you took a shower. It's going to burn, but I have to kill the germs before I cover it. A bullet took some skin off your arm and it could get infected, so be brave.”
The white haired child nodded as his translucent gaze locked with his father.
“No I won't be brave,” he replied, “I'll be like you instead, Daddy – I'll try and be brave.”
“Let's get this over with,”Greg replied, then he pressed the antiseptic against the wound and his son caught his breath and gave a tiny sob.
“Well done, that's all over. You did really well,” Greg told him as he grabbed a dressing and started to cover the wound, “Now tell me, do you like your new clothes? I got them from the supermarket.”
Zodiac looked down
at his light blue t shirt and his new jeans and trainers and nodded.
“They fit really well. And you look much better now you're cleaned up too. I'm not used to seeing you look messy.”
Greg laughed.
“Yes, it's amazing what a shave, a shower and a suit from a deserted clothing store can do for me! I guess I look more like me now.”
Zodiac nodded.
“Is your arm okay?” Greg asked.
He nodded again. Greg got up from the floor and paused to turn to the mirror, catching a glimpse of his groomed reflection. Now he was in a new suit it was almost possible to forget the world had changed at all, just for that moment as he looked into the glass. Then he turned back to his son, took his hand and helped him up.
“Shall we go to the toy store?” he suggested, and it was a great relief to see all trace of pain vanish from his son's eyes as his face lit up with a smile.
“Yes please!” Zodiac said excitedly.
“Let's go, then,” Greg replied, and he led him out of the bathroom.
Outside in the hallway, the others were waiting.
“You took forever!” Vicki complained, then she looked down at Zodiac and her expression softened.
“Are you okay now?”
He nodded and she smiled, and as Greg walked away with his son, for a brief moment, as he stood beside her Marc wondered if she still loved his best friend, but then she turned her head and met his gaze and there was sadness in her eyes.
“Just because I said I didn't want to bring him up as my own, it doesn't mean I don't care about that little boy.”
“I know that,” Marc replied, then he gestured to the open doorway.
“Ladies first?”
She smiled and grabbed him by the hand as she looked to the others.
“Guys.. we're going in together to save time... we won't be long!”
Then they went into the bathroom and closed the door leaving the rest of the group waiting for a turn to freshen up.
Christian woke with a vague headache and sat up on the bed in the furniture store and looked to the open doorway. He saw no one, so he got up, ran his fingers through his hair and put on his glasses, then went to the doorway and looked up and down the mall. He caught sight of Greg and Zodiac in a toy shop and then he left the furniture store and walked to the end of the row of shops.
“Do you want to go upstairs and get cleaned up?”
Christian looked at the man who stood before him, he had come out of a stairway accessed by a small door and he couldn't recall if they had met before... Then he did remember...yes, he recalled vaguely this was the guy who had helped them out and told him he could go and rest. Everything else was a blur thanks to the booze and his shoulder ached stiffly and the pain was getting worse.
“I'm...”
“Christian, I know - your friend told me... I'm John. And I'm soon expecting a visit from Flint's people because I fired shots at them.”
“Oh no, not more trouble!” Christian groaned as he looked to his borrowed t shirt and the blood stain that had seeped through the fabric, “I'm in no shape to put up a fight -”
“It won't come to that,” John assured him, “When they get here, we will all be expected to go to Circus and explain ourselves. Just don't quarrel with Flint, be careful.”
Pain was overtaking his need to know more about the man who ran Circus.
“I need my medical bag.”
“It's in the bathroom,” he said, indicating to the stairway, “Go through that door and up the stairs to the apartment. Get cleaned up, have something to eat, the others have all done that and took a change of clothes from the stores, you should do the same.”
“I'd better do it right now before the shit hits the fan,” Christian agreed, then he clutched at his throbbing shoulder as he headed off towards the stairs.
By now the sun was setting low and dusk was pulling in, sending a dark shade of twilight across the skies. Christian had struggled in the shower to avoid the water hitting his wounded shoulder, then after he had finished, he had got dressed again, leaving off the blood stained t shirt. As he peeled back the dressing and looked at the stitching to the wound, he was surprised to find it wasn't the mess he was expecting – the sutures looked much like his own work when he had closed Greg's scars five years before. It was then he started to smile as he looked again at the wound.
“You used your own scarring as a template.. you knew how to close it... well done Greg, nice one!” he said, then he turned to the medical bag and began to search for some pain relief. Greg had done well with the stitching but his advice to drink the booze had not been great – Christian regretted doing it now, but at least he was starting to have high hopes for Greg, who would perhaps make a very good doctor by the time he had finished learning all he needed to know...
As it grew dark outside, an armoured car and a large black van was heading towards the retail park. Inside the mall, the others had all recovered from their long ordeal of rough travelling since fleeing first Wolfsheer Island and then the hail of bullets that had greeted them on the way to Circus. Even Christian was feeling recovered now the pain relief was kicking in. He cast a glance to the others, Vicki was in a clean summer dress and new flat shoes, it was dark blue and short and showed off her tanned legs. Emma was wearing jeans and a white top and Marc was also wearing denim with a black vest. Parsons had opted for combat fatigues and Alex was still wearing the same dark clothing he had worn since Wolfsheer island.
He realised Greg was absent and looked about the mall to see him walking over to join the others, Zodiac had a clean change of clothing and the wound on his arm had been dressed. Greg had really made the most of this chance to grab some new clothing – he was wearing an expensive looking suit underneath his worn leather coat.
“Greg,” he began as he walked over to him, “That booze made me feel like shit! But thank you. I can't believe what a great job you did on my shoulder. I noticed you stitched the wound exactly how I did yours...”
“I stopped to check my leg halfway through,” Greg replied, “These scars will never fade. I just copied the pattern,” he laughed, “I started off using an anatomy book but then I gave up on it when I realised my own scars were the best guide!”
“You've done a good job, thanks,”he said again, and Greg nodded.
“I'm sure I'll do a better job once you start teaching me.”
“You're going to be a great doctor,” he replied, then he indicated to his new clothes, “Nice suit, by the way.”
“Yes it is,” Greg agreed, “I see you got cleaned up too. You're looking much more alive than when I found you in that rock pool!”
Christian laughed too, he looked down at his green and white check shirt and dark jeans as he silently recalled the fight they had back on the island. If not for Marc pulling them apart, they would have killed each other – now they were friends once more and Christian had never imagined until now that he would ever have so much to thank Greg for – he had saved his life twice, first with the CPR and then by cutting out the bite from his shoulder.
“Once we get settled somewhere,” Christian said, “I'll train you. I'll teach you everything I know. It won't be the same as learning at medical school like I did, but I'll do my best. You saved my life and I don't doubt you'll save others. I can't thank you enough.”
Emotion had overwhelmed him as Christian blinked away tears. He had never imagined coming close to death on the island, that place where they had all felt so safe. The last person he had ever expected to save him when disaster struck was Greg – now all he wanted to do was hug him.
“You saved my life...” he said again.
“It's okay,” Greg told him, stepping closer and giving him a brief hug and then a pat on the back, “You saved me five years ago. I'm grateful too.”
Then he stepped back again and turned to Marc.
“We need ammo. John said Flint would send some guys over. We'd be stupid not to be armed and ready.”
&
nbsp; “There's no chance of that.”
John had just entered the mall from the upper stairway, he walked over to them and indicated to the machine gun Greg carried.
“Don't even bother taking weapons. They won't allow it. And they have more bullets than I can spare.”
“But you have weapons!” Emma added, stepping forward as she glared at John, “You could help us out. You should be helping us out -”
“I can't!” he told her, “Honestly, the best way to handle this is to go with them unarmed. I'll do the taking. He won't kill any of you unless you start trouble. This isn't a situation any of us can get out by using a gun – seriously, all of you...” he cast his gaze about the group, “Don't try anything stupid. Leave the talking to me.”
Parsons nodded in agreement.
“He's right,” he added, looking to the others, “He knows Flint, we don't. We follow his lead.”
“And just hope for the best?” Emma asked.
“Yes,” Parsons replied, “There's also the fact that we can't take on a whole town of his security force. We have to do things his way.”
“Good plan!” Alex agreed, “Flint is a wise man! Oh...” his eyes grew wider, “Soon I shall be reunited with the fairground! And the princess of all amusements, the colourful being of stripes, I hear her singing on the wind already!”
“What are you talking about now?” Emma said in despair.
“The helter skelter, of course!”
She shook her head and looked away, wondering why she often glanced at that crazy man and felt a soft spot in her heart for him. He was talking about a fairground attraction like it was a magical creature...
Then the conversation was cut short as they heard the sound of engines coming to a stop outside. Then heavy doors opened and slammed shut and suddenly there was heavy knocking on the shutter.
“Open up, John,” a man called out, “Flint wants to see you – and the others too!”
John took a deep breath and glanced back.
