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March stepped aside, watching the growing agitation of the crowd. Now about two hundred people were clustered, shouting at concession stand employees, groundskeepers, costumed characters.
Time to ratchet things up, March decided. He called 9-1-1.
"Police and Fire, what's your emergency?"
"My family's in Global Adventure. Somebody crashed into the gate and he's loose. It's a terrorist. They've seen him. He's got a bomb!"
The dispatche
r: "We have a report of an accident but there's no report of any terror--"
"Jesus, there he is! He's got a bomb! And a gun too."
"Sir, what's your name and location? Please--"
He disconnected and walked farther around the perimeter of the park, making a circle back toward the entrance. Looking in the trees, looking behind the buildings.
He made another voice call, to a local news affiliate. "Please, you have to help! We're in Global Adventure World, the park, you know. Orange County. We're hiding. My family's hiding but he's nearby. It's a terrorist. A man with a machine gun. And another one, with a bomb! Please... There's a terror attack going on! A suicide bomber. He crashed through the gate and he's in the park. I'm looking at him now."
"Sir, please, what's your name?"
"Jesus, he's coming this way."
He disconnected and continued to walk through the park, noting the increasing number of people on their phones, desperate for news reports that the incident was over and that they were safe. But, of course, there could be no such reports. Rumors were still flying like leaves in a hurricane. The patrons tended to end up standing in protective groups, like wildebeest, though some were walking off the paths and into the bushes, peering out--as if in a scene from one of the amusement park parent company's movies: the innocent about to be devoured by aliens.
March hurried along the pathway. He was about to play the scenario all over again, walking up to another family and stabbing them with panic, when the husband gripped March's arm.
"Hey!"
The wide-eyed man said, "Sir, you have family here?"
"Yeah, they're over at Tornado Alley. Why?"
"There're terrorists in the park. A half-dozen. They're going to blow up some of the rides."
The wife was sobbing.
"No!" March said. He looked at his phone. "Hell, you're right. It's my wife. Texting. CNN has the story. Terror alert. Suicide bomber in the park."
"That's why the police. They're all over the place."
"And they're not saying anything!" March snapped.
He'd thought he'd have to spread the rumor a half-dozen more times but, nope, it wasn't necessary. The stories buzzed like locusts. One bomber, a dozen. Machine guns. Al Qaeda. ISIS. Pakistan. Syria.
"What're we going to do? How do we get out?"
March shouted, "There's only one way I know about. The front entrance. They don't have emergency exits, I heard."
"No exits? Didn't they think something like this could happen?"
"We're going to be trapped here!"
March waved his arm. "No, we're not. Let's go!"
The crowd was now moving in the general direction of the park entrance. What started as a cluster of a hundred was swelling to three, four, five times that. March walked with them for a ways, then he managed to peel off from the mass, into the bushes, and let the skittish herd continue their quickening drive to what they hoped was safety.
Chapter 45
