An answering whoop sounded. Reacting on pure instinct, I grabbed Rex by the collar with one hand and pulled my machete free from my belt with the other. I didn't even realize that I'd dove back behind the food stand until I registered the feel of the sun warmed metal against my back.

"Quiet," I whispered to the growling dog. I sent up a prayer of thanks when he actually fell silent. That was quickly followed by a wordless plea when I looked around me and realized that I couldn't see anyone else.

Looking around wildly, I tried to find a safer place to hide. One where a zombie couldn't simply charge around the corner and into me. Many of the stands had been closed up before their operators abandoned them, and they offered no refuge.

My backpack, which had been slung over only one shoulder, slid down even further. It hampered movement in that arm and I realized that I was going to have to let go of Rex. I needed to fix the pack, and I would never be able to effectively swing at a zombie with one hand attached to the dog. Stomach tight with nerves, I reluctantly let go.

Rex was still alertly staring in the direction the zombies had sounded, but he stayed still. I was going to have to trust him.

The carnival grounds had fallen frighteningly silent. The only sounds were the breeze in the grass and trees, and my own harsh panting. The lack of noise was ominous. A cold sweat made my skin clammy. The zombies could have been anywhere.

I'd let Shawn get out of my sight as I wandered between the stands. I thought that he was to my left and not far, but I wasn't certain. With zombies roaming the carnival, twenty feet felt like twenty miles. Fear threatened to freeze me in place, trying to convince me that whichever way I chose, that was the direction I would find bloody death.

I couldn't just stand there. It was too exposed. My friend might need me. I had to move.

Bracing myself, I inched toward the back of the stand. At the back corner I hesitated. Sure that I was about to come face to face with a living nightmare, I took a breath to steady my shaking hands, and stepped around the corner.

A tiny yelp escaped me when I ran straight into a solid body. Jerking back, I untangled myself from reaching arms.

Troubled grey eyes, not wild and blood red, stopped my arm from following through with the machete swing.

Looking equally startled and absolutely terrified, Shawn grabbed for my arm and drug me behind the stand with him. He leaned in to breath in my ear, "They're fast."

I had already guessed that by the screams. Decaying zombies didn't scream, just growled and moaned. I blinked up at Shawn, wanting to talk to him, but too afraid to make any sound. My mind felt almost sluggish, unable to work out how we were going to get back to the car when two zombies were likely between it and us.

Inclining his head, he indicated the direction he wanted to go. I nodded understanding. Keeping close behind him, we slid along the back of the stand. The walkway between rows of food stands was at least ten feet wide. I thought my heart would leapt out of my chest as I darted through the open space.

Around the back side of the next booth, we found Marcus, who appeared to have been waiting for us. He looked momentarily relieved when Shawn rounded the corner with me in tow. The guys must have already worked out a plan, because they didn't hesitate. Marcus led the way as we tried to silently circle the grounds and get back to the car. I kept expecting to run into Brad, but there was no sign of him.

The silence held. I flinched every time someone stepped on a piece of trash, or Rex's tags jingled. The sounds seemed amplified as I strained for any indication of exactly where the zombies were. My hand cramped painfully with the death grip I clutched my machete in. Our progress was slow and seconds crawled by.

We made it back to the fun house. Half way. The large structure stood in the middle of a relatively open patch of grass, and we were going to be exposed for longer than before to get around it. Dread settled in a hard lump in my gut as instinct screamed that things were about to go very wrong.

I nearly choked as we stepped into the open.

The next booth seemed impossibly far away. It had barely come any closer when I heard the sound that I had been dreading. An animalistic scream came from our right.

My breath stuttered in my throat when I saw how close the zombie was. Long hair whipping behind it, the zombie crouched low and ran in that bizarre, stilted gait. It was going to reach us in a matter of seconds.

I was nearly jerked off of my feet as Shawn changed direction. I saw where he was going and my mind finally kicked free of the nearly trancelike state that had been paralyzing it. Everything sped up, but oddly slowed down at the same time.

We bolted up the fun house steps. The entrance to the fun house was a narrow, twisting maze of glass walls. Leading the way, Shawn bumped his way into the surprisingly confusing labyrinth. I shoved the reluctant dog in ahead of me, and Marcus was right behind me. I had only made a few frantic turns when the zombie crashed into the outside glass wall.

We all froze, watching wide eyed to see if it would follow us into the maze.

"Sheila?"

Beside me, Marcus stared at the zombie with clear regret. I looked back at it. Snarling with bared teeth, the zombie banged on the glass. Dried blood covered it from head to toe. One arm dangled and flopped uselessly at it's side. This close, I could see that the flesh on that arm had been shredded. I could also see a scar on what had probably been a pretty face when she was alive.

Sheila's zombie looked me dead in the eye and screeched. The face was familiar. If it had been lit by the red glow of taillights, I knew it would be a perfect match. This was the zombie that had looked in the back window of the suv at us just the other day. There was no way we could have known it, but we already knew the fate of the missing people before we ever left the safety of the fences.

I didn't have long to think about the cruel irony of that revelation because the zombie suddenly changed tactics. Stopping it's frantic assault on the glass, it became very still, staring through the glass walls with red eyes. Then the zombie began to pace. The front porch of the fun house wasn't that big, and it only took seconds for the zombie to find the opening in the glass.

"Go!" Marcus shoved me from behind as the zombie bumped hard into a clear wall inside the maze.

We moved fast through the twists and turns, and put distance between us and the zombie. At the end of the maze portion of the fun house, we looked back. The zombie was deep in the center of the maze. Through the clear walls, we could clearly see it as it bumped around in there. The zombie was clearly having problems navigating and was just taking the first opening it found at every turn. It had made some progress, but the maze had slowed it down.

After the maze was a rope net that led up. The coarse, thick rope had to be climbed to the next level. It looked like it was about seven feet up.

My heart sank. There was no way Rex was going to be able climb the net.

Shoving past me, Marcus whispered, "Keep going." He grabbed onto the net and hauled himself up quickly. "She's going to figure out a way through before too long."

He swung up and over the top and disappeared from sight. A strange, clattering noise began to echo out across the carnival.

"Go up," Shawn's voice caught my attention. He bent down and scooped Rex up under one arm. "I'll hand him up to you."

The rope net was harder to climb than I would have guessed. Bizarrely, I kept thinking that this was supposed to be a fun ride for kids, as I struggled up the wobbly net. I pulled myself onto the landing above and swung around to reach for the dog.

Shawn was tall and Rex was still under weight, two facts I was very happy for as I reached down and tried to pull the dog up with me. A shove from below, and the confused looking Shepherd landed next to me on the landing. In seconds Shawn was up too.

The rush of adrenaline was making me shake. I figured out what that clattering sound had been as I stepped off of the landing onto a swaying bridge. Every step threatened to throw me off balance and made a substantial amount of noise. I'd been so preoccupied with getting Rex up there that I didn't notice until that second that Marcus was gone.

We were up fairly high and had a good view of the carnival. Maybe a hundred yards away, I could see the car. A tall figure stood next to the open drivers door. Brad.

Darting movement flashed between two stands, not far from Brad and the car. I lost sight of it and didn't have time to stand up there and keep looking. Brad was in the safest position of any of us at the moment. A locked car door would keep the zombies out. He was going to have to take care of himself.

The bridge went clear to the end of the fun house. When we got to the landing on the other side, we found our way down. It was a tightly turning slide that spiraled all of the way to the ground.

The zombie in the maze shrieked loudly from below. The sound echoed strangely off of the glass walls.

"I'll go down first," Shawn didn't wait for a reply before he sat at the top of the slide and pushed off.

Rex was eyeing the top of the slide with wild eyes. I grabbed a handful of his fur and prepared to push him down the slide by force if necessary. There was no time to convince the animal to go down on his own. But his resistance changed in a heartbeat when we heard snarling from right below us.

The dog launched himself down the slide.

I dove after him. The view spun wildly a few times, making it hard to decipher what was going on down on the ground. I staggered to my feet unsteadily the instant they connected with the grass.

Ten feet away, Rex was on top of a flailing zombie. It hissed and snarled and dug it's fingers into his fur as it tried to escape the dog, but he only bit down harder on the zombie's neck. The dog growled menacingly and shook his head hard. Blood covered his fur and pooled darkly in the grass.

Knife in hand, Shawn was trying to get a shot at killing the zombie without cutting the dog.

"Rex, here," I tried calling him off, and was surprised when he listened. As soon as his furry head was clear, Shawn dove in and stabbed the zombie through it's eye.

The zombie in the grass fell still. The one in the fun house started shrieking and banging on it's glass prison, able to see us just feet away, but unable to get out. Rex panted loudly at my feet. Red drool dripped from his tongue.

All of that registered somewhere in the back of my mind, but my sole focus wasn't on what I was hearing. It was on what I was seeing.

When he had dove to kill the zombie, the sleeve of his shirt had pulled up, exposing most of Shawn's lower arm, and the distinct shape of a bite mark that oozed blood.

***

My writing buddy says, "You did what!?!"

Because I love you all (and Haven says "you can't do that to your readers!"), read on for a double update!