Status Updates From Funland

Though her torso was smeared with blood, Dave saw no wounds. Joan removed her shoulder holster and the knife rig. She took off her bullet-proof vest. Her T-shirt looked glued to her skin. It was white. Its whiteness struck Dave as strange and comforting. He'd seen so much blood in the past few minutes that he'd begun to feel as if scarlet was the natural color of things.

An instant before he threw himself against the door, Jeremy heard the clack of a sliding bolt. He clutched the knob, twisted it, tugged at it, crying "No! Let her out! Let her out, you bastard!" He pounded the door, smashed at it with his shoulder, kicked at it. The door stayed shut. He sank to his knees, weeping.

Tanya pulled a folding knife out of the pouch of her sweatshirt. She pried its blade out. Jeremy dug into a pocket for his Swiss Army knife. He saw Samson, Karen, and Cowboy produce knives of their own. "Everybody ready?" Tanya whispered. She scanned the group, her eyes glinting and fierce in the candlelight, then turned around and began to climb the stairs.

He unwrapped the blade and looked at it. Memories of last night rushed in, seizing him with fear and desire. Who needs the razor as a reminder? he thought. Who's going to forget that?