she come along I’ll bet Amy would really enjoy it.”
The front doors of the funhouse were designed to open inward on
hydraulic rams. There were no handles on them, nothing by which they
could be gripped or moved.
“If I could get hold of an edge,” Buzz said, “maybe I could pry them
open. But they’re closed so damned tight.” “It wouldn’t matter if you
could get your fingers through a crack,” Amy said.
“You wouldn’t be able to pull the doors open anyway. I’ll bet they’re
just like the automatic door on the garage at home. As long as they’re
hooked up to the hydraulic system, they can’t be opened manually.”
“Yeah,” Buzz said. “You’re right. I should have thought of that.” Amy
was surprised that she was holding up so well. She was scared, and she
got a sinking feeling–part grief and part disgust–when she thought of
what happened to Richie. But she wasn’t coming apart at the seams. In
spite of the dope she had smoked, she was in control of herself. In
fact she was thinking faster and clearer than Buzz. She didn’t
consider herself to be a strong person, Mama always told her that she
was weak, flawed. Now her fortitude amazed her.
Liz, on the other hand, was rapidly breaking down. Her eyes brimmed
with a steady flow of tears. She looked drawn, years older than she
had looked minutes ago. She mewled like a scared kitten.
“Don’t panic,” Buzz said. “I’ve still got the ax.”
Amy lit a series of matches while Buzz swung the ax at the door–six,
eight, a dozen blows.
At last he stopped, breathing hard. “No good. There isn’t any edge on
the damned blade.” “Someone must have heard all that pounding,” Liz
said.
“I doubt it,” Amy said. “Remember, the actual funhouse entrance is set
back at least fifteen feet from the ticket booth and the midway, beyond
the boarding ramp, at the end of the entrance channel. No one passing
by is likely to hear the ax, not above all this music and that laughing
clown.” aBut the barker’s out there,” Liz said. “He’ll hear it.” “For
Christ’s sake, Liz,” Buzz said, “get your head together. The barker’s
not on our side. He’s obviously part of it. He lured us in is what he
did.” “sO some freak could kill us?” Liz asked. “That doesn’t make
sense.
That’s ridiculous. The barker doesn’t even know us. Why would he
choose a bunch of kids at random and throw them to . . . that thing?”
“Don’t you listen to the news on TV?” Buzz asked. “Things don’t have
to make sense anymore. The world’s full of crazies.” aBut why would
he do it?” Liz demanded.
“Maybe just for kicks,” Amy said.
aWe’ll scream,” Liz said. aWe’ll scream our fuckin’ heads off.”
“Yeah,” Buzz said.
“No,” Amy said. “That’s useless, too. The music is louder than usual,
and so’s the clown’s laugh. Nobody’s going to hear us–or if someone
does, he’ll think we’re just having fun in here. People are supposed
to scream in a funhouse.” “So what are we going to do?” Liz asked. “We
can’t just wait here for that thing to come back. We’ve got to do
something, damn it!” aWe’ll go around to some of these mechanical
monsters and see if we can find anything else like the ax, stuff we can
use to defend ourselves,” Buzz said.
“The ax isn’t even sharp,” Liz said petulantly. “What the hell good is
it?” “It’s sharp enough to hold that thing off,” Buzz said, hefting the
ax in both hands. “Maybe it’s too dull to cut wood, but it’ll sure do
some damage to that bastard’s face.” “The only way you’re going to
hold off that freak is with a shotgun,” Liz said shakily.
As the flame neared Amy’s fingers, she dropped the match she was
holding. It was burnt out by the time it reached the floor. For a
couple of seconds they stood in a darkness like no other that Amy had
ever experienced.
The darkness did not merely seem to contain a threat, it was the
threat. It seemed to be a living, evil, purposeful darkness that