Haunt

Autumn Learns the Ropes - Part 2 of 3

Weekend One - Thursday Night

September 15, 2022

A couple of hours later, Autumn navigated the park on a mission from the Bone Zone to the Who Killed Cock Robin? Fright Zone to borrow line-management people. All she had done so far was walk from place to place, carrying messages, and she was pretty sure she'd covered ten miles.

"E-stop pulled at Old Man Mueller's!" crackled Autumn's radio.

A different yet similarly shaken voice reported over the radio. "Three whistles! Black Door! Black Door! We need security. We need people here right now!"

Black Door? That was a priority designation, making all other assignments secondary for floaters like her. Autumn picked up her pace, rushing toward Old Man Mueller's Slaughterhouse. Grabbing her utility belt's dangling flashlight, she aimed the light toward the ground to wave people away from her path, like the sweeping of a blind man's cane.

"Excuse me!" she shouted over the commotion and constant music of the park. "Clear the way!"

Before the season began, Autumn's administrators held an Orientation for new and returning employees. Repeatedly, Orientation emphasized that employees shouldn't run in the park. It also informed her that all yellowshirt park employees must respond to emergency calls as quickly as possible. What did they want her to do, teleport?

During the popular Halloween Haunt season, the place was wall-to-wall patrons, many of whom seemed to show up already drunk and ready to down a few Boo Beers at $8.00 a cup ($12.00 for the collector's cups featuring the Wicked Witches). Thursday nights were purportedly the weekend's least crowded nights, yet still, the park felt overloaded with bodies.

So Autumn navigated through a heavy crowd of wanderers, shrill teens, and guffawing drunks. If this were not enough trouble, a dense white fog covered the path, courtesy of strategically placed dry-ice machines. After a couple of hours, these machines flooded the entire park with a thick, acidic-smelling mist, which made seeing one's footing difficult. It was a miracle that there weren't hundreds of twisted ankles and broken limbs. Apparently, the park would risk a few horrible injuries during Halloween for ambiance.

E-stop meant "emergency stop" of a haunted attraction, like stopping a roller-coaster halfway up the first hill. Once an e-stop was initiated, the lights slammed on, the music stopped, and every guest in the haunted house had to leave quickly by the nearest exit. No one was allowed back in until the emergency was over and dealt with.

Every house had several e-stop buttons, and every house used them at least once or twice a night - often by accident or prank. Even if someone fell over, that was a justifiable reason for an e-stop. Better safe than sorry. However, e-stops were always accompanied by whistle-blows. The amount of whistle-blows determined how much of an emergency the e-stop warranted. One blow meant that a minor accident happened. Two meant an injury or a potential hazard. Three, however, meant someone was in danger or something was on fire. The phrase "Black door" rang in Autumn's ears, a code word indicating that whistle blows were insufficient.

At the bend beyond Australia, leering skeleton decorations pointed the way to the Slaughterhouse. Autumn was grateful for their guidance. She knew her way around the park, of course, but she wasn't a hundred percent familiar with the haunted house locations just yet, and in the dark, with the fog and the confusion of the crowd, things didn't look the same. She had already gotten turned around once and found herself wandering straight into the Who Killed Cock Robin fright zone - the wrong direction.

However, once she passed into the Greek ruins of Europa, there was no more need to worry. Old Man Mueller's Slaughterhouse sat atop the park's highest hill, with a long line of patrons snaking its way upward.