Inferno Park (44 page)

“Speaking of the devil, we should review some ground rules before we go inside,” Emily said. “First, do not eat or drink anything. That gives the park power over you.”

“No kidding,” Jared said. “That’s the first thing the park offers you, drinks and food. Then games and rides.”

“Second, we need to stay together as a group, no splitting up,” Emily continued. “Third, be extremely cautious regarding wishes, or any offers of bargains or deals.”

“Especially from the man in the striped hat,” Carter said. “He said straight out that he’s interested in collecting souls. I’m starting to believe he really is the devil or something like it.”

“Bullshit.” Wes shook his head. “I don’t believe in souls or devils. I just want to find my brother. If this doesn’t help, I’m going to be pissed at all three of you.” He swept his finger at Carter, Victoria, and Jared, then hitched up his green corduroy pants.

“I’m guessing you did not bring items of spiritual significance to you, then,” Emily said.

“Oh, I did.” Wes brought out a small aluminum Darwin fish and attached it to his shirt pocket with a pin. “Because I believe in the scientific method.”

“
And
you love sarcasm,” Emily said. “So it suits you. I brought a family heirloom St. Christopher medallion, which I further adorned with a yin-yang and a peace symbol for personal reasons.” She showed them her necklace.

“This is Ganesh,” Sameer said, drawing out a silver pendant etched with the image of a man with four arms and an elephant’s head. “It belongs to my father.”

“Seriously? You brought a religious thing?” Wes asked.

“Yes, seriously,” Sameer said. “Don’t give me a bunch of crap, Wes. I’m only here to help you. I could go home if you want.”

“No, no, don’t leave!” Wes told him.

Scattered sirens erupted in the distance.

“Right on time,” Jared said, checking his phone.

A flashing blue light streaked past them along the highway and barreled away at high speed.

“I bet that was the cop watching Starland tonight,” Carter said. “Let’s get inside before he comes back.”

They rode down Beachview Drive in a small caravan. Emily rode with Carter and Victoria, followed by Jared in his truck, then Sameer and Wes in Sameer’s golden Hyundai.

Victoria cautiously rounded the last curve before the park came into view, her shoulders and legs tensed, ready to pick up speed if a cop was still there.

The Starland parking lot lay empty, though. They parked once again in the shadow of the crumbling pink motel across the street. Carter remembered what Schopfer had said, that the Fancy Flamingo Lodge had once been the Conch City Resort motel, and Starland had once been a nameless handful of small, temporary amusement rides leased for the summer and parked across the highway from the motel, creating a tourist-catching net. This crossroads was where the town had really been founded, though no commemorative plaque marked the spot. It was also, of course, very close to where the sinkhole had dealt its fatal blow to the heart of the town.

“You’ve brought an array of documentary equipment,” Emily commented as Victoria slung her photography bag over one arm and checked her handheld video camera.

“Not quite an array, just one digital video and one old film camera,” Victoria said. “Maybe between them, they’ll pick up some of what we see.”

Wes and Sameer clicked on flashlights as they crossed Beachview to the dark parking lot of the amusement park.

“Did nobody else bring a flashlight?” Sameer asked.

“We won’t need them,” Carter replied. “The park’s full of lights.”

“Looks dark to me.” Wes pointed up to the rusting high rides and the big devil face of Inferno Mountain, all of it visible only by moonlight.

“Wait until you get inside,” Jared said.

They reached the front gates, where the August crop of memorial flowers had wilted and dried. The wind had scattered gifts, cards, and pictures of the dead all over the parking lot.

Carter and Victoria led the way around the side of the park, where their previous path through the woods was now paved with asphalt. They approached the place where they’d entered before.

Tonight, their side entrance was neither a hole in the fence nor a chain-link gate with a simple latch, but a heavy barred door held in place by a strange, round armored plate with a small keyhole. Several aluminum signs were zip-tied to the gate, reading NO TRESPASSING, KEEP OUT, and VIOLATORS WILL BE PERSECUTED.

“Shouldn’t that be ‘prosecuted’?” Sameer asked, pointing to one sign.

“We’ll see,” Carter said. He tested the barred door, but it was locked solid. Through the bars, the park looked like dark, overgrown ruins.

“So much for all those lights you talked about.” Wes shined his flashlight among the weeds.

“We’re not in yet,” Victoria said. She brought out the skeleton key from her pocket and handed it to Carter, then stepped back to take video of him. “Want to try it?”

“Hope it works.” Carter slid the long key into the lock. The key wouldn’t turn, so he applied more pressure, gritting his teeth.

“Careful,” Victoria whispered. “Don’t break it.”

“I’m being careful.” Carter twisted it as hard as he could, and a loud, rusty screech sounded from inside the lock. The key turned slowly and reluctantly, but it turned.

Carter felt a pop and a shudder in his arm as the lock gave way. The hinges of the barred door squealed as he pulled it open. He turned the key back the other way and struggled to pull it free from the lock, which seemed to determine to grasp the key with its rusty innards.

The six of them stared into the shadowy ruins.

“Who wants to go first?” Emily asked.

“Why are you people acting so scared? Come on, Sameer.” Wes led the way through the gate, followed by Sameer, and both of them waved their flashlights in the dimness under Crashdown Falls.

The moment they stepped through the gate, lights went up all over the park and waves of overlapping music erupted from the attractions inside. From where they stood, “Green River” by Creedence Clearwater Revival was the loudest, booming from the speakers around Crashdown Falls.

Wes and Sameer screamed and ran back toward the gate, but Carter and Jared advanced, blocking their exit. Emily and Victoria walked close behind them, Victoria at the very back with her video camera.

“What the hell?” Wes shouted.

“Told you,” Jared said.

“Keep walking,” Carter told them. “We should hurry.”

“But this is insane.” Wes pointed to the flashing green and blue lights of the Pirate Island plaza ahead. Sameer nodded beside him, gaping. “Who did all this?”

“As far as anyone can tell us, it’s the devil,” Carter said.

“Which I take to be a powerful energy-essence personality with malevolent intent,” Emily said. “As to whether it’s actually the mythological character—”

“Satan?” Wes asked. “Lucifer? Beelzebub?”

“It may not be wise to repeatedly call out demonic names at this time,” Emily said. “In fact...”

Emily brought out her phone and played voices chanting musically in Latin.

“What the hell is that?” Jared asked.

“Gregorian chants performed by Benedictine monks.” Emily clipped the phone to her belt. “In thirty seconds, it will shift to the Glory Road Baptist Church singing ‘Wade in the Water.’ Then Tibetan monks, and so on.”

“You really think that’s going to protect us?” Wes asked.

“We need to hurry,” Carter said. He, Jared, Emily, and Victoria walked on along the now-paved path under the waterfall ride.

Wes and Sameer glanced at each other, then back at the open gate.

“Somebody hung lights and played music,” Sameer said. “It doesn’t take a horned demon to do that.”

“Do you want to look for your brother or not?” Carter asked. After a moment, Wes shrugged and followed after them.

Every attraction in Pirate Island looked open. The Swingin’ Scalawag pirate ship swept back and forth, while the duck-shaped bumper boats waited at the loading canal under a string of glowing lights. The Harpoon Lagoon and Gone Fishing games were fully lit, the plastic fish swirling in their kiddie pool waiting for a player with a hook to grab them up.

Wes approached the giant red crab of Pinchy Pete’s Sandwich Shack, where a row of long, crispy sandwiches overflowing with fried shrimp and oysters, lettuce, and Pinchy Pete’s special orange sauce waited on paper plates on the serving counter.

“These look like somebody just cooked them,” Wes said, leaning closer and sniffing. “And they smell so good...you can almost taste them in the air...”

“Don’t eat that!” Emily snapped. “Don’t eat anything.”

“Like I was really going to eat it,” Wes said, but he looked unhappy, and his gaze lingered on the nearest sandwich. “I just didn’t realize how hungry I was...”

“Come on.” Sameer grabbed his arm, and then screams pierced the air.

“Over there!” Victoria turned and snapped a picture.

The big plastic log ride shot down its highest hill, spraying water out both sides. Two boys of nine or ten years old rode inside the log, screaming and thrusting their hands high into the air. The log dropped out of sight behind a sign advertising
PIRATE PRALINES!
and
SALTWATER TAFFY!

“Where did those kids come from?” Sameer asked.

“They might be captive souls trapped in the park,” Emily said. “We would do best to avoid them.”

The midway pulsed with lights and music. Bubble machines atop the food stands and game booths filled the air with clouds of bubbles, their thin iridescent skin reflecting bright neon and flashing bulbs. Voices barked over the loudspeakers:

“Skee-ball, skee-ball! Five balls for a dollar, you won’t find a better deal in town—”

“Cotton candy! Ice cream! Deep-fried pretzel cakes!”

“Whack a frog, win a prize! Come on, kids, try your luck!”

Carter took the voices for recordings at first, but then he saw park employees at a few of the booths, men and women dressed in candy-striped broad-brimmed hats and red and white pinstriped vests. They stood at their counters trying to grab the attention of Carter and the others in his group. Under their hats, their eyes were pallid, lifeless gray, as if drained of color.

“This is insane,” Wes said. “I saw the pictures from the paper. This should all be overgrown and falling down. None of it should be operational, but I can see the Ferris wheel turning, the roller coaster, the Moon Robot...”

“Emily, who are these people working here?” Sameer whispered. “More ghosts?”

“The adults who died on the day of the sinkhole, most likely,” she replied.

“I’m not sure I can believe that,” Sameer whispered.

“Ignorance won’t not protect you,” she said.

A shrill, giggling girl’s voice sounded ahead. A pack of little kids chased each other back and forth across the midway, laughing as they ducked behind game booths and clambered over park benches. A blond girl with pink ladybug barrettes, seven or eight years old, seemed to be their leader.

As they drew close, Carter decided to risk speaking to them.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Hey, little girl, have you seen the man who runs the park? He has a striped hat?”

The girl looked up at him with dead gray eyes. Then her eyes sunk back into her sockets, leaving them hollow and black, and her jaw dropped open, revealing nothing but darkness inside. She let out a warning hiss like a rattlesnake.

Carter shouted and jumped back, stumbling into his friends.

The girl’s face returned to normal, and she giggled uncontrollably.

“You’re so stupid,” she finally said, her voice like a loud whisper. “
First
he kills you
, then
you can play with us.”

She broke down into more giggles and ran off down the midway, her gang of friends tailing her. They faded out of sight, but their laughter rolled on for several seconds after they vanished.

“Okay, mark me down as officially freaked out,” Wes said. “Can we leave now?”

“Any chance you got the disappearing kids on camera?” Carter asked Victoria.

“Let’s see.” She stood beside him, her arm brushing against his as she stopped recording and played back the video she’d taken. On the camera’s screen, Carter watched their group walking through the dim, overgrown ruins of the park, thinly lit by moonlight from above. Carter saw himself speaking into the shadows, but the kids didn’t show up on the recording at all. The audio contained no hint of their voices or laughter.

“It’s all illusion, isn’t it?” Carter looked up to take in the lights of the midway, the calliope and country and classic rock music, the barkers shouting for attention, the smells of funnel cakes and salty frying potatoes in the air. The asphalt was smooth and unblemished beneath his feet, and every ride and game looked freshly washed and polished.

“I don’t get it,” Jared said, looking at the video over Victoria’s shoulder.

“I’ve read the devil’s powers are nothing but tricks and deception,” Victoria said. “But I’ve read other viewpoints, too.”

“Whatever. That’s where we need to go.” Jared hurried ahead toward Wishing Well Plaza at the center of the park.

Carter stared upward as he followed Jared toward Dark Mansion, which had grown from two stories high to four or five. It now towered above them like a black fortress, girded with stone curtain walls and angular turrets. Instead of one plaster gargoyle at the entrance, it now had actual, three-dimensional stone gargoyles perched at every corner, sneering down with horned, devilish faces. A few of the narrow, barred windows glowed ghostly green.

“This isn’t how I remember Dark Mansion at all,” Wes said. “When did it get so big?”

“Jared, did it look this way last time you saw it?” Carter asked.

“No. It’s still growing. Come on, we have to find Becca.” Jared jogged up through the queuing area that wound through the graveyard. The headstones had a different look, too—real marble instead of foam, all the joke names replaced by ones that sounded real.

“We shouldn’t split up,” Emily said. “We should proceed to the Beat the Devil game now, Jared. You’ve already told us Dark Mansion is difficult to escape.”