WILL YOU SURVIVE...? Book 1: Mortey The Killer Carni Clown
Author: J.D. Brown, B&B Games CEO

Chapter 13
The Retaliation

CHAPTER 13: The Retaliation 


July 7th 2:07pm, Strawberry County Carnival, Richfork IA


NORMAN’s uncle drove his squad car into the maintenance entrance of the fairgrounds and as luck would have it, he was the only one there. Everyone else was entering the main entrances and gated access ways.

He called over the radio, “0-1-4 clear. 0-1-5, clear your intel.” The cop threw down the mic, and drove into the grounds, looking for his nephews. Squad 0-1-5, JACK’s car, never responded back.


Inside the police car, JACK sat in the front seat beside the officer, feeling awkward just being inside a squad car. JACK had never been in one before, except for one time in elementary school during a field trip to the police station. The entire day felt off: drinking with his brothers, knowing something would go wrong, the confrontation with the bikers, people at carnivals with guns, almost getting into a fight, people blown up, and now, being in the front seat of a cop car. Not only that, but all the cops and emergency personnel were heading toward the carnival like JACK and his brother warned them not to!

JACK was in the only squad car leaving the scene. What made him so special? The police scanner and radio was going crazy with abbreviations, barked orders, destinations; everyone was surrounding the fairgrounds, including a chopper was told to fly to the air-zone. JACK kept listening and realized the oddest thing: the cop driving never asked a question, never said a word, or responded to any calls over the scanner radio.

That is until, “0-1-4, clear. 0-1-5, clear your intel,” came over the speaker. JACK watched the cop pull his gun from his side holster and JACK knew this was all a set up. It was the only reason he was separated from his brother and knew that worse had already happened, thanks to the word ‘clear’. JACK turned in his seat and kicked the cop with both feet, causing the squad car to swerve into oncoming traffic. The cop lost control of the squad car but was able to keep the gun in his hand.

The last thing JACK saw was the cop’s gun fire. It wasn’t the gun that killed JACK, or its bullet. It was the dump truck that was traveling toward them that t-boned the cop car, crushing JACK, folding his body into the car door as the front of the dump truck crushed the car like an accordion. JACK’s body was bent and folded in ways the human body wasn’t meant to, then was pushed up against the screaming cop as the force of the dump truck’s power drove over the vehicle, flattening everything, and everyone inside.


MORTEY began to raise the mallet over his head and quickly, ready for it, NORMAN kicked MORTEY straight in the groin, causing MORTEY to drop the mallet and double over. NORMAN kicked MORTEY on the side of the head and could feel the snapping of MORTEY’s jaw under his boot. NORMAN dashed for this knife on the steps of the Funhouse exit stairs and the moment NORMAN reached down for it, a jolt of pain seared through NORMAN like he had never felt!

MORTEY, lying on the ground, had found an exposed cable on the ground floor amongst the black snake cords, the just ones that the paramedic had tripped over earlier. The electric charge from the exposed wire to the generator to the Funhouse structure to NORMAN was instantly excruciating but very short lived. NORMAN could only see streaks of light pass through his eyes and everything was a dazed blur. NORMAN stumbled for this knife, found it, but had a hard time holding the handle due to the electric jolt, and staggered off away blindly.

MORTEY, when he attached the exposed wire to the generator, screaming in horrific pain as he also felt the electric bite. The burn in his right hand was searing and his skin was smoking. The voice inside his head also screamed as if she was able to feel everything as well. It took MORTEY time but he eventually reached his feet, grabbed the mallet with his good hand, cupped his burnt hand under his armpit, and hobbled toward NORMAN. NORMAN was retreating toward the Ferris wheel area once again.

The voice in MORTEY’s head was screaming:

“He Hurt You...!”

“He Hurt Me...!”

“Kill Your Brother...!”

“Kill Him Now...!”


NORMAN’s uncle drove onto the grounds, not seeing a single living person. This was not a good sign. He didn’t see his brother or his nephews. All he did see were several bodies sprawled along the grounds.


R.I.P. Youngest Brother JACK

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