Chapter 11.
800 Words
The following evening arrived with a heavy, bruised-purple sky and a sense of mounting urgency. True to her word, Mrs. Brooks had let Harper go, though she had stood in the driveway until the GTO’s taillights were nothing more than red pinpricks in the dark.
"Two towns over," Ryan said, leaning between the front seats as they crossed the county line. "It’s called Miller’s Grove. It’s been closed since the early 2000s after the local economy tanked. My dad used to take me there for the funnel cake."
"And now we’re going for the ghosts," Maxine chirped, her glittery notebook open to a fresh page. She had already checked off 'Tattoo' and 'Racing' with thick, triumphant strokes of a purple pen.
When they reached the carnival, it was even more skeletal than Harper had imagined. The entrance gate was a rusted iron maw, overgrown with vines that looked like reaching fingers. The GTO rolled to a stop, its headlights illuminating a faded, peeling sign of a clown whose smile had been weathered into a grimace.
"Perfect," Harper whispered, stepping out into the tall, dry grass. The air was still and smelled of damp earth and decaying wood.
Kane didn’t say much. He grabbed a heavy-duty flashlight and a small roll of tools from the trunk. "Wait here," he commanded, disappearing into the shadows toward a small corrugated metal shack near the base of the Ferris wheel.
"Is he going to get us arrested?" Ryan asked, his eyes darting toward the dark road.
"We’re already on a timer, Ry," Harper said, walking toward the towering silhouette of the ride. "What’s a little trespassing between friends?"
A few minutes later, a deep, mechanical groan shuddered through the ground. It sounded like a giant waking up after a century of sleep. Then, with a series of sharp, electric pops, a string of dim, flickering yellow bulbs along the wheel’s spokes began to glow.
Kane emerged from the shadows, holding a battered, industrial-sized remote control wired into a handheld receiver. "Generator’s alive," he said, a ghost of a smirk on his face. "The remote’s a bit temperamental, but it’ll get the job done. Who’s going up?"
"All of us, if you guys want?" Harper said firmly.
The metal bucket creaked as they piled in. Ryan sat next to Harper, his knuckles white as he gripped the safety bar. "Harp, I love you, but this thing sounds like it’s held together by rust and prayer."
"Then pray fast, football star," Maxine teased, sitting opposite them next to Kane, who held the remote like a detonator.
With a jerk that made Ryan gasp, the wheel began to turn. The world dropped away in slow, swaying increments. As they rose, the overgrown grounds of Miller’s Grove turned into a dark, sprawling map. The abandoned carousel, the collapsed game booths, and the overgrown midways looked like toys set left out in the rain.
"Look at that," Harper breathed, leaning her forehead against the cool, rusted metal of the carriage.
As they hit the highest point, the carriage swayed in the night wind. They were above the trees now. From here, the lights of the distant town looked like fallen stars, and the silence was so absolute it felt heavy.
"The world stops here," Harper said quietly. "No doctors. No Derek. No clocks."
"It’s beautiful," Maxine whispered. Even Kane looked out at the horizon with an unreadable expression, the flickering yellow light catching the sharp angles of his face.
Ryan, however, was staring straight at the floor of the bucket. "It’s... it’s great. Really. Can we just... move again? The swaying is making my soul leave my body."
Kane hit the button on the remote. The wheel groaned and rotated, bringing them down toward the earth before sweeping them back up for a second, then a third revolution. On the third pass at the very peak, the carriage gave a particularly violent shudder.
The lights on the spokes flickered once, twice, and then died.
The hum of the generator vanished, replaced by the whistling wind and the sound of Ryan’s frantic breathing.
"Kane?" Harper asked, looking at him.
Kane was frowning, thumbing the buttons on the remote. "Nothing. The receiver on the motor must have fried. The surge was too much for the old wiring." He shook the remote, then tried to bypass the signal, but the device remained dark.
"Are you saying we're stuck?" Ryan’s voice hit a pitch Harper hadn't heard since they were ten.
"We’re stuck," Kane confirmed, his voice flat. He looked down the side of the wheel. They were at the absolute apex, suspended sixty feet in the air.
- Writer
