First Girl Gone(99)

Hope.

She rocketed for the abandoned amusement park. Ran harder across the clearing before the park—the snow-covered parking lot that looked like some kind of frozen pond, empty like it was. Some lightness entered her body as she drew closer to the perimeter of the place. Familiarity buoying her spirit. Lifting her knees. Pressing her onward like a stiff wind at her back.

Glancing back, she saw the flashlight just reaching the top of the hill, appearing there, a flare rising up from the darkness of the hill as though it had just now beamed into existence.

She’d pulled away from Todd for the moment. Good. That’d give her options.

The front gates of the park loomed before her, but she veered away from them. They were boarded up, she knew. Reinforced with corrugated steel sheeting. Barbed wire spiraling over the top. But there were other ways in. Less obvious ways.

Perhaps ten yards from the edge of the parking lot, she spotted the gashed opening in the fence. The one all the high school kids had used to sneak in here to drink and smoke cigarettes for as long as she could remember. Still there after all this time.

She knifed through the gap, body angled sideways. She had to crouch, sliding one leg through at a time to avoid snagging on the slit links of chain. At last, she stepped into the darker terrain on the other side.

Now she was free to run again, and she did. But soon enough the running would stop.

It was here, in the park, that she’d make her stand.





Chapter Eighty-Four





Charlie shuffled out into the open space of the midway, skirting around the small trees and waist-high weeds that grew up from the cracks in the pathway. Adrenaline gushed all through her, making her movements jittery and jerky.

Abandoned food stalls squatted on all sides here. Fries. Funnel cakes. Italian ice. Elephant ears. Beyond the crumbling booths, a cluster of kiddie rides. The carousel with its rusting menagerie of mythological beasts: a unicorn, a dragon, a mermaid. A miniature rollercoaster, the cars done up to look like a sea monster.

She ran past them, knowing they weren’t what she was looking for. Not this time. The idea of where and when to hide, to mount her attack, itched somewhere inside where she couldn’t scratch it. She knew the idea, the perfect place was just there, out of reach, and she had to trust that she would know it when she saw it.

Her pace was slowing. She was jogging now more than running. Everything hurt, and the pain rushed in as the initial tide of endorphins began to recede.

Her side ached, a pair of machetes lodged in her liver. Each breath made her lungs burn. The wind scraped at the soft tissue of her throat on its way in and out, like the air had grown claws.

Still, she forced her feet to keep pounding their way over the asphalt. Even through the pain, she kept going.

Out in the open, away from the woods, the wind off the lake seemed to cut right through her coat and clothes. Digging into the flesh of her more deeply than before.

She pushed herself harder—mind still strong, still sharp—but the strength of her legs was dwindling. No longer accelerating the way she wanted, the muscles gone weak and shaky.

That hurt worse than all the physical pain, the betrayal of her body. She was so close. The end of all of this was so close. Right there. For better or worse. For life or death. The final battle loomed just ahead, and her mind was ready. But her flesh was giving out on her. Fading. Failing.

How could her whole life lead to this? Exhaustion defeating her. How could that be fair for her? For anyone?

She swallowed. Blinked back the threat of tears with fluttering eyelashes.

You can’t run forever, Charlie. You knew that. It’s time to choose a battleground. The place to make your final stand.

She swallowed again, and more words spoke in her head. A calm voice. A quiet voice. It was close, but it didn’t quite sound like her own.

Brace yourself for the fight now. Give yourself an edge. Get the jump on him here and now.

Her eyes danced over her surroundings. Scanning. Weighing. Looking for answers. Potential. Possibilities.

She gazed up at the largest ride in the vicinity, The Kraken, with its eight curved metal legs of painted glossy black. Orange light bulbs protruded from each of the limbs.

The Ferris wheel stood taller still, dead ahead, all the way at the back of the park. All those struts and beams crisscrossing into the sky. A fossil of steel and rust-stained paint.

These metallic skeletons did her no good. Offered her no advantage.

Think smaller. Closer.

She looked over the smaller attractions that stood between her and the Ferris wheel. Considered each of them.

The ball pit in Triton’s Playground caught her eye. She visualized herself hiding there, submerged among the rainbow-colored spheres. It could work, especially for a hiding spot, but it didn’t give her any kind of advantage in the pending battle. Hiding only stretched out the timeline. She needed a fight plan, some kind of strategic gain.

Fight or die, the voice in her head repeated. Fight or die.

She spotted the familiar orange-and-yellow striped roof then. The dark of the open doorway, surrounded by the gaping mouth of the giant clown.

Zinky’s Funhouse.





Chapter Eighty-Five





Inside the funhouse, Charlie slowed, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She’d only ever been in here in the daytime, and it was unsettling to have to feel her way down the strange hallways. To trust her hands to guide her.