Page 41 of One Adult, Please

"Is it medium not good or very not good?"

The grinding gets louder. Somewhere ahead, something crashes. The animatronic dragon exhales one sad puff of fog over the whole situation like even it's disappointed.

"Very," Joel says.

And then, from deeper in the haunted house, something starts moving toward us. Several somethings.

The chain drive shrieks. The carriage is stuck halfway through the castle gate, tilted against the guide rail with Staff Jacket wedged beneath its front edge. Missing Shoe is beside it. Neither of them is finished being a problem, which feels rude after being hit by an enchanted carriage.

From the room beyond, something bumps into the back of the stopped vehicle.

Then something else. Then another something else.

"Zombie bowling has a flaw," I say.

Beck's grin fades. "Zombie bowling has a second frame," he says.

The wrong people behind the carriage start climbing. One of them crawls over the carriage hood. Fingers dragging across the cracked fiberglass, mouth working.

I don't back up fast enough. Of course I don't. My body receives instructions by mail.

The wrong person drops off the carriage and hits the floor on its knees. Its hand catches my pant leg.

I swing the friendship paddle down.

The first hit lands on its shoulder. Useless. The second catches the side of its head and makes a sound I'm never going to successfully describe to a therapist. The third hit is me, both hands on the paddle, screaming as I drive it backward into the track rail.

Joel's wrench comes down.

The wrong person stops moving.

For one second, all I can hear is the gnome hammering in the other room.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Like applause from hell's smallest carpenter.

Beck vaults the edge of the track and swings at the next one. The axe catches on a dangling strip of fake ivy. Beck jerks once. Twice.

The wrong person keeps coming.

His face changes. The bright, delighted Beck drops away and underneath is a young man in a fish vest in a dark room with something dead reaching for him.

Joel moves. But Beck gets there first.

He lets go of the axe, grabs the nearest fake treasure chest with both hands, and shoves it into the wrong person's knees. It goes down.

Beck yanks the axe free and brings it down once. Then again. Then he steps back, breathing hard.

Joel looks at the carriage. Looks at the control panel. "The maintenance controls."

"The what?"

He doesn't answer. He crosses to the wall panel beside the gate, opens it, and holds down a yellow button.