The boy reached out again, his eyes filled with longing. He gripped the fur and then patted it gently. Billy paused, the vibration, his life’s blood pounding in the boy’s fingertips danced in time to his own beating heart.
He whispered. “I need to belong somewhere. I want to belong.” He held out a grubby hand with something in it. “Want a Charleston Chew?” he asked softly.
Billy opened his mouth and let loose a primal scream. The boy’s jaws opened wide, and he joined him, their howls echoing in unison.
Billy crouched, his eyes moving to the camera. He growled in surprise when he saw ripped wires dangling where the mounted lens used to be. The boy held out his other hand, the decapitated camera in his palm, and smiled.
“Looking for this?”
CHAPTER 18
Carter returned to his detail in the main control rooms to stand behind a group of politicians. Vincent Conrad was back, answering questions as he continued to show them the back lot of the park.
“Impressive,” President McAdams said. “The whole place is impressive. Quite a setup you have here. Excellent meal, by the way.”
General Anthony shook his head.
“Something wrong, General?” Conrad asked silkily.
The general put his hands behind his back as he walked to the front of the group. “Not my style, this whole thing,” he said gruffly.
“You don’t agree with the idea of placing the monsters in parks to be observed?” the Norwegian ambassador asked.
“Our park is opening tonight as well,” the French minister said. “This is unprecedented. Seven theme parks opening simultaneously, the entire world banding together to combat these parasites is nothing short of a miracle.”
“Indeed,” the Chinese ambassador agreed. “This proves the world can work together to solve the problems facing our globe.”
Vincent nodded. “As you can see, my monsters are in a controlled situation and in identical controlled circumstances in all locations. What we’ve done here is being duplicated in each locale.”
“We had the plague victims in a controlled situation. No, sir, this whole thing is a circus,” the general replied. The general was proving to be a hard sell.
“Come now, General Anthony,” McAdams said heartily. “This was a perfect idea. Dr. Conrad is happy to take on the expense. The world economy was at a standstill with the effects of the plague. It was costing our own government a fortune to keep the victims separated.”
“It’s exploitation of people who are ill.”
There was grumbling around the crowd. Carter silently agreed with the general. Senator Chizzwick turned abruptly. “Would you rather let them all die, perhaps? Dr. Conrad is a national, no, I meant to say a world hero. He has tackled a problem that froze both the House and the Senate for over two years. Do you want to go back to that? The entire world was at a impasse? The debate over what to do with the plague victims polarized the government, so that no bills were passed for almost two years. Vincent Conrad saved this country.” Chizzwick pointed his finger into the air. “We were bordering on a civil war. Half the population wanted them exterminated!”
The general looked at the screen. It was the Vampire Village. A theater was lit up, with a group of pasty-faced people strutting across the stage. The audience was laughing, enjoying the antics of their performance. Dressed in macabre interpretations of seventeenth-century brothel ware, they rocked the stage, belting out popular songs with exaggerated movements.
“It’s humiliating.”
“For whom?” Vincent asked, his dark eyes boring holes into the general. “They were invisible in society, drinking animal blood, hiding in the dark, waiting for the unwary teenager to stumble in and be initiated into their group. Now teenagers are safe. The predators are locked up, under guard. They can be a cautionary tale to the unwise adolescent.”
Carter watched the mesmerized crowd moving in coordination with the singer and his raspy voice. The camera panned the audience. Their rapt eyes held the performer. Hips gyrated, hands clapped, voices shouted back the words. They were worshipping their new rock stars.
Carter observed a tech discreetly tap Vincent on the shoulder. His taut face conveyed a message that caused Vincent’s lips to tighten. Vincent excused himself discreetly to go to a console in the far left corner.
There was a commotion around the computer, which resulted in a small argument. The doctor seemed to assert himself, silencing the problem. In a flurry of activity, employees rushed out the door, whispered commands following them. Vincent spun, smiling with a reassuring and condescending manner, telling the room at large, “Opening night snafus! My resourceful and experienced team is resolving the issues. You have the added privilege of seeing Monsterland at its best.”
President McAdams started to clap, the rest of the guests soon followed so that the room was filled with resounding applause. The doctor beamed benignly.
“I would like to mingle with my guests in the park. Perhaps you would like to attend the River Run ride?” Vincent asked the president.
Carter pushed himself away from the wall. He looked back to the worried face of the tech on the computer where Vincent had been. He shivered involuntarily. Carter suddenly regretted that he hadn’t sent the boys home. He hurried after the president and his detail.
CHAPTER 19
Vampire Village was a techno paradise, all gleaming chrome and monochromatic buildings in neutral gray. Everything had graffiti, artfully drawn cartoons of pasty-looking subjects with large soulful eyes. They reminded Wyatt of that artist from the eighties who drew children with huge eyes that drew you into their consciousness. There were no cobble streets here; recycled tire rubber lined the floors, and the buildings grew out of the black depths to stand like monoliths, their sleek surfaces polished to a dull pewter. The village was created around a circle instead of a village square. There was a theater that announced a show time in ten minutes. Stores lined the curved street, selling garish Goth clothing, peculiar hats, and shoes that would make Frankenstein feel right at home.
They met up at the entrance. Wyatt looked from Keisha’s unhappy face to Howard Drucker’s enthralled one.
“What’d you guys see?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Keisha said with a bitter eye roll. “We didn’t see or do anything.”
“We saw McAdams eating.”
“Awesome,” Josh responded. “Did they feed him anything cool, like a body part?”
“Don’t be an asshole.” Keisha dismissed them to walk ahead. She was miffed. The others followed her long-legged strides.
They wandered like awed tourists through the wide doorways that beckoned them to enter. Wyatt saw Keisha’s eyes light up with mischief when she spied an attractive mannequin in the window. She giggled as she poked the mannequin, her jaw dropping when the mannequin poked back.
“They’re all real,” she explained, her eyes bright. The vampire was shockingly beautiful, taller than Keisha, no easy feat, with long leather-clad legs and huge shoulders. His pitch-black hair was spiked, his eyes dark pools of indigo. He had elegant fingers, with razor-sharp nails that captivated the girl. The man had an indecent mouth, mobile with a lazy grin that seemed to be only for her.
“What are you talking about?” Howard asked.
“The mannequins, they’re vampires!” Josh pointed. He approached one, reaching out to tug the long military coat.
“See something you like?” the figure hissed, bending down to eye level. His face was translucent, his eyes dark puddles of misery. His lips opened in a tight smile, revealing fangs.
The group reared back, Keisha stepping onto Howard Drucker’s feet. He steadied her, but she pulled away moving closer to the male.
“Who’s your little boyfriend?” The man jumped down from his pedestal. He walked to a female mannequin, took her hand and helped her off her stand. They circled the group. “We won’t hurt you.” He threw his head back as he laughed. “We’ve been capped, see?”
He opened his mouth to
show a clear brace covering his fangs, preventing them from doing any harm. “If you don’t believe me, ask him.” He pointed to the door where Vincent Conrad entered with a large group of people.
“Ah.” Vincent snapped his fingers at his assistant, who followed dutifully at his side. “The boy who fed me at that hamburger joint, Billy Baldwin.”
“It’s Wyatt,” he corrected him.
“And look who is playing with him, Diana, the huntress.”
Keisha separated herself from the group and approached the older man. “I told you my name is Keisha, not Diana.”
“Isn’t she pretty, Raoul?” he asked the black-haired vampire.
Raoul walked toward the group. “She’s a sweet, young thing.”
Howard Drucker watched him warily, uncomfortable with the way the vampire was staring at Keisha. He wasn’t too thrilled about the way she stared back. A female came up behind Howard, wrapping her hands around him. He jumped when she touched him, but her strong hands caressed his shoulders possessively.
Vincent separated them. “You’re scaring the children, Marissa.”
Marissa narrowed her heavily kohled eyes. “Isn’t that what we are supposed to do?” Her dress fluttered around her, the tattered material of her skirt revealing long black-clad legs.
“You’re supposed to entertain the guests. Marissa, take the Chinese ambassador and show him where we have blood drawn.”
“Blood drawn?” Wyatt asked.
“Naughty boy. If you had stayed with us, you would have learned all about how we maintain the park.”
Vincent sighed. “Vampires love blood.”
“Everybody knows that.” Howard Drucker came closer.
“Yes. It’s common knowledge. However the misconception is that they need any kind of blood. That’s how they’ve been able to last as long as they have. We use animal blood. Then we feed the raw meat to the zombies.”
“No waste,” Howard said in awe.
“Correct, young man. We keep them sated. They really don’t crave human blood. Raoul, care to explain?”
Raoul approached Keisha. She was almost as tall as him, her dark skin a foil for his white complexion. He stood next to her, his long pale fingers caressing her bare arm. “We only crave human blood when we mate.” He looked at the shocked faces. “When we are attracted to someone, and we want to make them one of us, that’s when we drink from here.” His finger lightly touched the side of her neck. “That’s why our numbers are dwindling. We have not been allowed to mate.” Keisha closed her eyes and shivered with delight, baring her elegant neck.
“Imagine that, a life with no sex.” Vincent laughed evilly.
“They can mate with each other,” Howard stated. He moved closer to Keisha, but Raoul looked up snarling. Howard’s chest caved inward.
“Boring, boring, boring,” Raoul said silkily. “Imagine eating the same meal over and over again. Even macaroni and cheese would get tiresome.”
“Oh, you crafty devil.” Vincent laughed, reaching out to pull Keisha away. “You see what he is doing?”
The people in the crowd blinked owlishly. “He’s seducing you,” he said, as if sharing juicy gossip. “That is how they increase the population.”
“Wait?” Josh called out. “Are you saying they don’t bite people all the time?”
Raoul and Marissa laughed, and Vincent chuckled alongside them.
A man wearing a uniform from the military stepped forward. “That’s been proven a long time ago. Vampires flew under the radar for years, not being noticed. They only recruit when the flock thins out.”
“But it’s been designed to diminish now,” Wyatt said. “It’s illegal for them to bring anyone new in. The population is dying out.”
Raoul spun, his face bitter. “Rather unfair, if you ask me. We only initiated those who beg for it,” he said, his voice a caress on Keisha’s skin. “It’s when we are at our most seductive…and dangerous,” he finished on a purr.
“What?” Howard Drucker demanded. Instead of seeing the vampire, all he saw was Keisha’s face in a rapt expression as she looked at the monster. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea that sex was forbidden for them, he thought, taking a big gulp. His Adam’s apple moved convulsively.
“Little boy.” Raoul walked over to him. “We are not indestructible. We are beings, like anybody else, forced to hide because of the misconception. When we thin out, or—” he walked past Keisha, his eyes holding hers “—recruit, that’s when we become driven.” This was said with a menacing hiss.
The room was thick with silence, as if, somehow, sides were drawn.
Vincent looked at his watch. “The show is starting momentarily. Move along, you don’t want to miss it.” He exchanged a look with Raoul, who glanced at Keisha and then nodded to Vincent.
Vincent’s assistant rushed the patrons toward a group of performers milling in the center of the circle. A hunchback dressed in dark clothes waltzed around, teasing, juggling, entertaining the crowd. People were amused by his antics.
Vincent glanced outside the store’s entrance, motioning Raoul over. “Not on opening night.”
“It’s only fair. She will make an attractive addition, unlike that fool.” He pointed to the hunchback who was doing headstands. He was wearing so much face paint, his features were a garish mask. He was barely recognizable as a human. “Really, Vincent, what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking of our future,” Vincent answered silkily. “He’s a favor, nothing more. Don’t draw any more attention to him than you have to.”
“We don’t like him. There’s been talk of…you know.” Raoul pointed to his fang.
“That would be a shame.” Vincent shook his head.
“You said you would give us creative control,” Raoul said, his eyes flashing.
“That is true, but you agreed to my terms. I’ll arrange something soon to rid you of the creature.” He looked at Keisha. “I’ll make it sweet for you.”
“I do want her.”
“That’s why I gave her a ticket. Patience, Raoul. Entice her. One day at a time, my boy. I like giving you challenges. It will make your time here…” Vincent searched for a word. “Fun. Use your charms; she’ll be back. It’s opening night; you have many other nights to recruit her. Seduce her, and she’ll be back.” He looked at Sylvie. “Don’t they always come back?”
Raoul smiled, his fangs showing. “Yes. Once they have a taste, they always return.”
The hunchback skipped to Josh. “Good evening.” One arm hung as if dislocated from his shoulder. He looked up at the boy, a dopey smile on his painted face.
Josh backed away. He had a wide smile with long, discolored teeth.
“Are you a vampire?” Josh looked at him closely.
“Hardly,” the hunchback answered witheringly. “I am a performer.”
“Is that thing real?” Josh pointed to a misshapen lump on the man’s right side. “Are you a zombie then?”
“Why, yessh,” he lisped. “I am real, and, no, I am not a zombie.” He snorted loudly, enjoying his performance more than his audience. “Hunchback. But we actually prefer to be called vertically impaired.” The crowd laughed.
“You’re not a character actor?” Theo demanded.
“Do I look like a man in a coshtume?” He mugged for the crowd. He started to walk away when Wyatt called out.
“Um, not really. How’s the pay?”
The performer thought for a minute and then said, “The perkths are niceth. Mr. Conrad offerths two weekths paid vacathion.”
“Very generous,” a man said with a nod.
“And the lunch at the commithary ith exquithit.”
“Where’s the vampire ride?” Josh asked, bored with the artist.
“You’re thanding in it. The thows about to thart. Take a theat in the theater.” He ran ahead playing a flute.
“I thought this was going to be cool. It’s not,” Josh complained as they entered an amphitheater. There were no seats; the
crowd kept coming. “Why’s the Hunchback of Notre Dame here? He doesn’t even go with the scenery, or the vampires for that matter.”
Wyatt shrugged, his mind only on Jade, his fingers still tingling where she touched them. He wondered how many people they could squeeze in there. He looked longingly at the door, wondering where Jade was and wishing he could be here with her, holding her hand.
The hunchback climbed awkwardly up the stairs.
“Hello, eager fanth! Montherland proudly welcometh you to the Vampire Village. And now, for our feature prethentation tonight, Montherland proudly presenth our rethident band, The Abracadaverth.”
The theater went dark. Strobe lights lit the night sky. Loud music blasted them, surrounded them, the beat so loud it reverberated through their bones.
Cords blared. The vampires strutted across the stage, and the sound of heavy metal filled the air.
“I heard these guys were really old, but they’re sort of cool,” Wyatt said to Howard. The beat made him start to move. He turned to see his group swaying to the music. Josh was shouting something to the artists, but you couldn’t hear him due to the roaring from the stage. It was primal, carefully staged to grip the deepest most elemental roots of what made people human, latching on and dragging them into the vampire’s soul. It was a pretty simple song, one sentence repeated over and over again. Soon, the audience was shouting the lyrics as if they had become one brain. All around them was a sea of cell phones lighting up the arena. It seemed to captivate them. Even if the words made no sense, the steady stream of guitar and the beat of the drums invaded their souls.
“I thought you said their music was dated,” Wyatt leaned close to say in Howard’s ear. “I’ve never heard anything like this.”
“I…this is not what I was expecting. It’s good…in a weird sort of way.”
“What?”
“It’s not what I have on an old CD at home.”
“What?”
“IT’S BEEN CHANGED TO APPEAL…oh forget it.” Howard gave up trying to talk over the loud sounds. It was not what he thought they would do. He liked the old campy stuff better, made them more pathetic. Raoul strutted across the stage, his long, lean legs going on forever, his head thrown back in ecstasy. The crowd was wild. He stood before Howard’s portion of the stage. He was powerful. Howard felt a chill shiver down his back. He looked nervously to the exit and then looked back at his friends.
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