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

Chapter 12
The Counteract

July 7th 1:45pm, Strawberry County Carnival, Richfork IA


NORMAN’s uncle drove his stolen squad car into the maintenance entrance of the fairground and as luck would have it, he was the only one there. The emergency squads were entering the main entrances.

He called over the radio, “0-1-4 clear. 0-1-5, clear your intel.” He threw down the unit mic, and drove down the fairground’s dirt path, looking for his nephews and his brother. Squad 0-1-5 never responded back. NORMAN’s uncle drove onto the grounds, not seeing a single living person.

This was not a good sign. Leaving the path, their uncle drove through the park area and headed toward the carnival rides section.


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; 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, nor responded to any calls over the scanner radio, until, “0-1-4, clear. 0-1-5, clear your intel,” came over the speaker. That’s when 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 by the use of the word ‘clear’.

JACK turned in the front 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 kept 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 at 45 M.P.H. that t-boned the passenger door, 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. Ready for it, NORMAN kicked MORTEY straight in the groin, causing MORTEY to drop the mallet and double over. Then, NORMAN kicked MORTEY on the side of the head and could feel the snapping of MORTEY’s jaw under his shoe. NORMAN dashed for his knife on the steps of the Fun House exit stairs and the moment NORMAN reached down for it, a violent jolt of pain seared through NORMAN!

MORTEY, lying on the ground, had found an exposed cable on the ground floor amongst the black electrical cords, the same ones that the paramedic had tripped over earlier. The electric charge from the exposed wire to the generator to the Fun House 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 shock, and staggered off away from the Fun House blindly. MORTEY, when he attached the exposed wire to the generator, screaming in horrific pain as he too felt the electric bite. The burn in his right hand was blistering and the skin was smoking. The voice inside his head also screamed as if she was able to feel the same pain as MORTEY. MORTEY eventually reached his feet, grabbed the mallet with his other hand, cupped his burnt hand under his armpit, and hobbled toward NORMAN, who was heading toward the Rides & Attractions area of the carnival.

The voice in MORTEY’s head was screaming, “He Hurt You...!”

“He Hurt Me...!”

“Go Kill Your Brother...!”


R.I.P. Youngest Brother JACK

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