Monsterland

by Michael Phillip Cash

  “Are you kidding me?” Keisha hissed with disappointment.

  The meal bell rang, and an announcer came on the PA, warning people to throw out their garbage and reminding them not to take anything into the park. The lights flickered, and the startled crowd gasped in dismay.

  “Looks like their electrical system isn’t functioning in coordination with the rest of the facilities.”

  Keisha sighed. “I can name another system that’s not functioning in tandem either.”

  “Really?” Howard looked around eagerly. “What else have you noticed?”

  Keisha groaned loudly, stalking to the entrance that was now sliding open.

  “Keisha!” Howard called after her. “I noticed something funny at the escalators as well.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Josh was glued to a window on the main street of the faux village. “Tattoos! Wanna get one?” Josh asked with wonder. Inside the window, patrons dressed like vampires worked at different stations and on various body parts.

  “Yeah, sure, and watch Mom’s head spin like she’s possessed?”

  “She’ll never know. Besides, she has one,” Josh persisted.

  They both smiled at the thought of their mother’s faded tribal tattoo on the small of her back.

  “Yeah, but she ascribes to the rules of do as I say, not as I do. Anyway, Carter’s X-ray vision will see it.”

  Josh nodded. “Yeah, Carter. He may find everything, but he’s not our dad. He has no say in what we do, nothing! If I really want a tattoo, I’ll get one, and he can’t do anything about it.” He changed the subject. “Okay, what else do they have here?” He spun to enter the doorway of the next shop. Wyatt followed him into the dark interior. Racks filled with shirts, sweat pants, and hats with the Monsterland logo closed in on them. It was packed so closely together, they had to turn sideways to meander around the store. Josh held up shirts, laughing. I Survived Monsterland, with werewolf claw marks that glowed in the dark. A baby’s onesie had a picture of an infant zombie on it with the words Feed Me Now. Wyatt held up a red thermos with an animated cartoon vampire that had a bloody liquid encased by plastic.

  Wyatt moved things out of the way to look at the merchandise, faintly annoyed at the commercial bent of the store. This was supposed to be a place for observation, not exploitation.

  “See something you like?” The girl had white makeup on her face, with open sores to look like she had the plague. Her fingernails were painted blue, with the telltale white spots of the disease marring the surface. Her hair hung lank, with huge bald spots that were made by latex. Her irises were covered by black contacts, the whites covered with something to make them look bloody.

  “No,” Wyatt said simply.

  “Don’t you want a sweat shirt?” She held up a thick gray sweatshirt that looked too short in the midriff. It was shoddily made. She laid it across the top of the rack so Wyatt could appreciate the humor of its joke.

  “See…” She pointed. “It says Keep Calm and Monster On.”

  “I see what it says,” Wyatt said shortly. “Whose idea was all this?”

  She looked at him oddly. “I don’t know.” She shrugged indifferently. “Who cares? You interested or not?” she asked rudely.

  Wyatt shook his head. Josh came running over. “Look at this; isn’t it cool?” He wore a white T-shirt that sported a cartoon and the saying The Zombies Got Me with illustrated entrails printed on the shirt.

  “Why’d you buy that?” Wyatt asked as they left the store.

  “Are you kidding me? I’ll be the first one wearing this.”

  Wyatt stopped in the street, his eyes stinging. He stared at the bleak streets, people gawking at the windows, the glazed look of shock. People were paused, filming with their cell phones. Signs pulled at him—buy this, purchase that. Really, what was so special about this place? he thought for a minute. Each of the main attractions were tragic examples of life gone wrong through sickness or disease. Wyatt turned to see a monitor across the way. It was a six-foot screen showing images of the Vampire Village. Pale faces filled the monitor, their dark, sunken eyes vacant. A hunchback danced around four vamps who played various instruments lethargically.

  Josh watched the screen transfixed. “I heard about them,” he said to Wyatt.

  They made sound rather than music. It filled Wyatt’s head and created a drill behind his eyes. Light hurt, and his chest vibrated with their pulsing melancholy chords that played in monotonous repetition. They were horrible. Their bland faces without a spark of humanity were like watching wax figures. They were no better than zombies, Wyatt thought wildly. He turned suddenly, now looking at a screen broadcasting the River Run. Howling figures clamored across the glass dome, their frantic cries filling the street. People stopped and pointed, watching with eager anticipation for the artificial moon to appear and make the men change into beasts. As expected, the moon rose, pulling the figures into a nightmare. Wyatt spun, looking at the faces enjoying the transformation. Had he looked like that? he thought with disgust. His stomach churned, a seed taking root in his gut, making him close his eyes with horror, not at the beast but at himself.

  He hated this place. “It’s…it’s…it’s…”

  “It’s amazeballs,” another voice finished. An arm snaked around his shoulders, much like Vincent and the president. Wyatt shrunk under the weight of it. It was Nolan.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Hey, neat shirt, Joshie,” Nolan shouted. “Anyone hungry?” He shoved a bloody, dismembered hand in Wyatt’s face.

  Wyatt felt the air leave his body as a buzz sounded in his ears. Nolan held him in a firm grip, shoving the slimy hand toward his lips. “Stop!” He feinted to the left, but Nolan’s hold grew tighter. He could hear Jade’s voice imploring Nolan to let go. Nolan’s harsh laughter filled his ears; then Nolan cursed loudly, dropping the fake hand to land at their feet.

  “Ow, you turd. What’d you do that for?” Nolan rubbed his reddened arm.

  Wyatt looked up to see his brother tense, fists raised and eyes narrowed. “My brother told you to stop.”

  Nolan pushed Josh in the chest, but the younger boy stood firm. Wyatt tried to come between them. “What kind of a wuss are you? You need your little brother to fight your battles?”

  Jade had a hand on Nolan’s chest, stopping him. She spoke softly to calm him. Her blue eyes were anxious, her face unhappy. “I want to leave.” She looked back at Wyatt, her face filled with despair.

  Nolan observed their exchange, grabbing her hand possessively. “Not yet. We haven’t seen the zombies.”

  Josh pushed Wyatt’s shoulder, rolling his eyes at Jade.

  Wyatt shook his head. He heard his name being called. He turned to see Carter moving slowly toward them. Carter looked troubled. The boys separated, pasting friendly smiles on their faces.

  “Problem?” Carter asked, observing the kids.

  “No,” Nolan picked up the dismembered hand. “I bought Wyatt a gift for getting us onto the rides so quickly.” He took Wyatt’s hand and slapped the rubber replica into his palm. “Thanks for giving us a hand.” He laughed. He turned to grab Jade’s hand. “You going to Vampire Village?”

  Wyatt nodded. “In a minute,” he replied, the set of his mouth mulish.

  “See ya.” He made an abrupt spin and started walking briskly toward a different attraction.

  They were headed toward Zombieville. Jade turned to look longingly at Wyatt.

  “Carter!” Josh said to his stepfather, his face filled with happiness. “This place rocks. We just did the River Run. They have an artificial moon—”

  Carter looked at Wyatt. “You okay?” He glanced down at the souvenir.

  “It was nothing. I can handle it,” he said curtly, embarrassed by the attention. “Stop it, Carter. I’m not five.” Wyatt looked around. “What are you doing out here? Where’s the president?”

  Carter shrugged. “I’m on break.” His gray eyes scanned the crowd, coming to rest on a tri
o of guards at an entrance. “What’s up with that kid?”

  “He’s the most popular guy at school,” Wyatt said dismissively. “He thinks he’s funny.”

  “Do you want me to—”

  “I can handle it.”

  Carter raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond. Carter turned to stare at the guards, his face frowning.

  He moved closer, turning to see what Carter was looking at. “What?”

  “I don’t know. A feeling.”

  Wyatt looked up at the strong face. “What do you see?” Wyatt’s phone vibrated with several messages. He looked at it and smiled. “Finally. Howard Drucker, Vampire Village in five minutes.”

  Josh whooped. His attention was diverted by a small parade of characters walking through the park. Some were on stilts, others in a rolling float. It was a pretty anemic parade, Wyatt thought contemptuously. They were just people dressed in costumes to look like the monsters. At this point, he didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this…this charade.

  Carter gestured to the guards. “Wyatt. Anything seem odd to you?”

  Wyatt looked at the crowds thoughtfully. He glanced back to Carter and saw his gaze resting on a group of guards.

  Wyatt considered the three uniformed men that stood like silent sentinels at their posts. They reminded him of something. “They’re like those guys in England that guard the Queen. No emotion.”

  Carter nodded. “They seem lifeless. Robotic.”

  “Are they all like that?”

  Carter thought about the question. “No, the ones inside were more…normal. It’s probably some gimmick for the crowds.”

  Wyatt peered at the blank faces of the three guards. “Doesn’t do much to make me feel safe. Conrad seems…”

  “What?” Carter looked him full in the face. He wanted Wyatt to confide in him, come and ask for advice. I’m on your side, he longed to tell him. If Wyatt would let him, he could help him with Jade or deal with Nolan.

  Wyatt shrugged. “I…I don’t know. It could be hype. We saw a video. It might not have even been real,” Wyatt said in a rush. “I can’t believe that Dr. Conrad could have bad intentions.”

  Carter laughed. “Yeah, sure. Grow up, kid.” He ruffled his head.

  Wyatt pulled his head away, annoyed.

  “Look, if it gets crazy, just break the glass in one of those cases,” Carter said with a laugh, pointing to one of the many axes. “It’s probably nothing. Stay away from him.”

  “Who?” Wyatt asked confused.

  “He’s talking about Nolan, stupid,” Josh supplied. “All Wyatt wants to do is sit next to Jade and make puppy dog eyes.”

  “Shut up,” Wyatt warned.

  Carter smiled in understanding. “Ah, the incomparable Jade of the Dairy Queen.”

  “You want that?” Josh asked.

  Wyatt looked at the quivering silicon hand and then shuddered. He shook his head and then considered his brother. “You want it?” he asked, disgusted. Josh nodded eagerly.

  Wyatt handed him the appendage. Josh smiled, grabbed it and turned to enter the next ride.

  “Hey, Josh.” His brother paused and looked at him. “Thanks for watching my back.”

  Josh grinned, and, for a minute, he looked four years old again. He said, “I bet now you’re glad you let me come. Let’s go see me some vampires!” He waved, running off to enter the Vampire Village.

  “Looks like you’re getting along better,” Carter said softly.

  Wyatt shrugged. “I can’t stay mad at him. He’s my brother. Family.” He paused, becoming uncomfortable. “Other than the catatonic police force, do you like the place?”

  Carter shrugged, his deep-set eyes squinting in the harsh glare of the lamps. “Not my kind of thing.” He considered Wyatt. “What do you think of your idol now?”

  Wyatt was silent. He didn’t have words. Thoughts roiled in his head, taking shape and then disintegrating. A few hours ago, what he thought was right now seemed absurd. Hazy ideas clashed with firm beliefs until all he felt was confusion. Coupled with his longing to sit with Jade, feel her soft hand, place his arm around her shoulders…Wyatt closed his eyes in abject misery.

  Carter eyed him skeptically but chose to stay silent. Teenager angst: been there, done that, he mused.

  “Wyatt, if it’s any consolation, Jade didn’t look like she was too happy with Nolan either. Let her know you’re interested.”

  Wyatt made a face but didn’t respond. “What’s next on your schedule?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “I’ve been selected for the president’s detail to accompany him on the rides. He’s eating now. We’re waiting for him to finish.” The radio on his hip gave a static squawk. “Duty calls.”

  He pushed away from the stanchion he was leaning on. He paused for a minute and turned to look at Wyatt. “Watch out for your brother.”

  “Why?” Wyatt asked.

  “Because I said so,” Carter said with a laugh. “That’s what a father’s supposed to say, right?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Wyatt said, a look passing between them. Carter seemed expectant, even hopeful, but Wyatt couldn’t do it. His mom wanted them to call him Dad. He opened his mouth to try it out and then changed his mind. He looked around as if he realized someone was missing. “Did you see Melvin?”

  Carter sighed, pointing behind Wyatt’s shoulder. Wyatt turned to see Melvin running in his awkward loping strides, disappearing down the road leading to the Werewolf River Run again.

  Wyatt shook his head. “I gotta go. See ya, Carter.” He jogged toward his friends waiting at the entrance of the Vampire Village.

  CHAPTER 17

  Billy smelled the intruder before he saw him. The moon was fully out now, its bright light seeping in through the tinted glass. He didn’t need to see it to know its power, he thought grimly. His pointed ears perked up at the sound of the clumsy limbs thrashing in the grass. Billy looked at the camera rotating on its axle. He counted silently in his head; he had four minutes left before he had to move. The guard was due to walk through this portion of the glade. He had slipped away when the president was loaded. All the personnel had lined up for handshakes and introductions. Almighty Vincent was there, his hand on the president’s shoulder, his wide smile revealing his large teeth. They had used the key card to slip out of their dens after the last feeding. Billy got out first, using his fingers clumsily, and then released the others. The actual full moon outside the lighted dome did its work changing their forms and now they were waiting. Waiting for the right moment to take back what was stolen from them—their freedom.

  He backed into the dense brush, his eyes alert. The air was heavy with their scent. He fought the urge to howl; he didn’t want to give his spot away. He heard Petey and Little John rushing up the other side of the hill to get into position. He thought about the plastic key tucked into a corner. If he reverted into human form it would come in handy. If only it would work on this blasted collar. He rubbed it against a tree, but it was on tight. The green light burned a hole into his retina. He rolled in the dirt, hoping the dust would mute the brightness.

  He heard talking.

  “Where’d they go?” the guard was asking. “I don’t see any of the collars.” He scanned the dense greenery. “I told them they should have made the lights a different color.”

  “They’re probably taking a shit in the woods,” another responded. “How’d they get out of the pens?”

  “Nothing broken. It’s like they had a key or something,” the other guard said. “Unless you forgot to lock ’em in before you finished,” he accused.

  “It was locked,” the other guard said definitively. “Have you alerted security?”

  The first guard glared at the other one. He didn’t want to reveal that his key card had gone missing a few days ago. People lost things, he thought defensively. He could have left it in the dormitory. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “Yeah. They’re looking for them on the cameras.”
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br />   He looked through the leaves, silver eyes meeting silver eyes in silent communication. Little John grinned, his long teeth dripping with saliva in anticipation of the kill.

  They simultaneously crouched, their long nails scoring the thick dirt.

  The feet came closer, the black boots planted right in front of Billy. It was the man who hosed him. Billy’s howl bubbled up from his chest signaling it was time. He watched the moving camera rotate the other direction. This was it. Growling, he leaped up, sinking his fierce teeth into the soft skin of the keeper’s neck, cutting off his vocal cords, so he died quickly and silently. The blood spurted with the force of jet, the man’s groan dying in his throat with a muffled gasp. His hands scrambled with the weapon at his hip, but his torn throat cut off the air so efficiently that he was dead before he hit the ground. Billy tore deep into his chest, feasting on the slowly beating heart; his face was damp with blood, and his eyes alight with triumph. He saw that Little John’s front paws were deep into another man’s chest, his snout pulling at muscles and tendons with eager relish.

  He howled again, telling the others of his victory. Heavy feet intruded in his glen. He spun, to face a younger person, his frizzy red hair a fiery nimbus around his face. The boy stood transfixed, his eyes wide with something, but he knew it wasn’t fear.

  Billy walked toward him, the whine of the camera panning in his direction making him move with rapidity. He heard an exhalation of breath, and the boy locked his gaze on the wolf in admiration.

  “Oh, my God.” He held out his hand in supplication. Emerald eyes from a gold pendant winked in the gloom.

  He heard Little John snarl as he leaped forward knocking the boy in the chest.

  He raced over, pushing the other wolf out of the way. “He’s mine,” he growled, declaring his territory. He nipped Little John’s neck. John backed away, subdued.

  He turned, his long fangs gleaming in the moonlight, blood from his victim dripping from their sharp tips.