by Michael Okon
Wyatt took in Melvin’s flushed face. “You look drunk.”
“Just happy. I can handle it.”
“I don’t want to have to clean up your vomit.”
“You sound like your mom. Relax, Wyatt. Where’s Howard Drucker?”
Wyatt peered through a thick glass wall, pointing to a crowded entrance. “He got swept away with Keisha. He never made it up here.” He texted Howard, but the message wouldn’t go through.
“Well, I’m bored. Let’s go,” Sean said.
“I want to hear the president’s speech,” Wyatt said.
“Look, I’m here for fun, not a history lesson. I’m going, with or without you.”
The president mounted the mezzanine, the crowd parting in awe. Vincent Konrad came forward, a broad smile on his face. He held out welcoming arms to the leader of the free world, who walked right into the mogul’s embrace. They shook hands warmly, and Vincent put his arm around McAdam’s back.
Wyatt studied him for a minute. He had taken a course last year on the body language of diplomacy. The doctor had his arm around the president’s shoulders and was declaring himself the dominant man in the room, the more powerful person.
Sound receded for Wyatt; he cocked his head, staring at them. Vincent’s eyes scanned the room, stopping to rest on him. The black eyes locked on Wyatt like the dual bores of a rifle. Wyatt shivered but held the gaze. Vincent’s thin lips widened into a mirthless smile that seemed to be directed solely to Wyatt, hitting him like an invisible force field. Vincent nodded once. Wyatt felt his scalp tighten.
The room felt small, too hot. The doctor’s face seemed unfamiliar, as if the stark light revealed a new person. Wyatt didn’t want to hear anything this person had to say. He wanted to leave. “Let’s go.” He turned toward the upper entrance.
“I thought you wanted to hear the president’s speech.”
“I changed my mind,” Wyatt said, his voice low. He briefly considered leaving the park. Jade was with Nolan, and he was stuck with his brother. Melvin was acting odd, and Howard was missing. This was not what he expected.
He looked over the railing at the vast expanse of Monsterland. The noise of the eager crowd was muffled through the thick glass. LED screens displayed wait times for various attractions. Zombies, he thought. When would he ever get this chance again? If nothing else, he wanted to see them up close.
For years, all things zombie had consumed him. He had read everything he could get his hands on. He couldn’t explain his fascination; he could talk about them for hours. Lately, though, they didn’t seem as appealing as they used to.
Jade, on the other hand, was much more appealing. It had first occurred to him that zombies weren’t exactly scintillating conversation when he had watched Jade’s eyes glaze over when they did the report together this past semester. He didn’t mind when she turned the conversation to something else. Not that he could remember that discussion either. It seemed all he could concentrate on were her ice-blue eyes and creamy skin. If only he could tell if Jade was really interested in him. Carter told him to ask her out—she wasn’t engaged, didn’t wear Nolan’s ring or anything.
In fact, Keisha whispered that Jade wasn’t too crazy about Nolan and had talked about backing out of her prom date with him. Nolan was leaving this fall, got a full football scholarship to Idaho State. Jade was going to nursing school right here in Copper Valley. She was staying home, like him. Maybe, she’d go to the movies. Maybe not. He frowned. He searched for her face in the crowd but asked his companions absently, “You want to do the behind-the-scenes tour?”
Melvin looked longingly through the glass observation windows at the park spread below them. “Hell, no.”
“Me neither,” Sean agreed.
“Let’s see what we came for.” Wyatt nodded. He turned to scan the room once more, catching sight of his stepfather. Carter gave him a wry smile. Wyatt waved his hand in a friendly salute and turned with his friends to the large pneumatic doors guarded by two men in black uniforms.
“If you leave this way, there’s no way back,” one of them said ominously.
Wyatt gulped.
“The park has exits.” Melvin walked up to one of them, his face close to the guard.
He nodded. “Yes, but once you leave these doors, you can’t return this way.”
“Let’s go,” Sean said urgently.
The guard pressed a combination of numbers into a keypad, and the doors opened, revealing a pitch-black tunnel.
“It’s dark in there,” Wyatt said, peering into the blackness. “Like a vacuum.”
“It lights up automatically overhead as you walk through. Go on.” He gestured to the passageway. “I can’t keep this open long.”
They ran into the dark, tube-like structure that lit the spot they were in as they traveled through it, their feet echoing in the empty chamber. Wyatt paused for a second, looking at where they came from, the tunnel lights extinguishing so that the way back was as dark as the sky. He shook as if chilled.
“This place is so cool!” Sean said, his voice echoing in the dimly lit corridor. “What’s wrong with you? Come on, look.” He pointed to the dark alley. “There’s no going back.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt agreed. He looked at the lights before him and the darkness behind him. His brother was right. There was no going back.
Chapter 13
Vincent Konrad was in his element, he observed, as the older man walked through the groups, shaking hands, smiling his toady smile. Carter leaned forward, his hands fisted on his hips, his gun reassuringly belted to his side, another, snug in his ankle holster.
His eyes began to circle the room, his ears alert to the steady hum of conversation. He had felt the doctor’s presence before he saw him.
“Officer White,” the doctor read off his badge. He didn’t offer his hand. “Are you enjoying the park?”
“I’m here to work.” Carter dragged his gaze from a group of politicians to meet Vincent’s face. “I’m not here for enjoyment.”
“All work and no play will make you a dull boy,” Vincent said with a laugh.
Carter shrugged indifferently. “I’ve been called worse.”
“You refused our complimentary tickets for your family.”
“My sons are here.”
“I don’t remember the White family on the guest list.”
Carter shifted his weight. “My stepsons are named Baldwin. You gave Wyatt Baldwin tickets at Instaburger.”
“Ah!” Vincent threw back his head. “A delightful young man. He did you proud that day. He is somewhat familiar to me.” He studied Carter’s face with a calm smile. Carter felt those black orbs search him so intently; he felt like his own eyes were being sucked from their sockets.
Carter looked away. He asked, “Do you know everybody who enters your park?”
“I make it my business to know everything and everybody that touches my enterprises. That’s the secret to my success.” Vincent placed a heavy hand on Carter’s shoulder. Carter couldn’t help but wince at the contact. “Suppose you lead the way into these rooms so that I can begin my tour, Officer White. Maybe I can change your mind about my venture.”
Carter turned. “How do you know how I feel about your … venture?”
He felt the hard scrutiny of the older man’s gaze. The black eyes studied him intently, and, for a minute, the silence was so thick it felt tangible. Carter felt the urge to shift but refused to be the first to give in. He returned Vincent’s stare, his cheek taut with the effort.
Vincent broke the hold first, laughing. “I told you, Officer White. I make it my business to know. Please lead the guests to the control center.”
The group of dignitaries followed both Carter and Vincent through the halls, the sounds of the excited crowd filling the canned interior. Vincent approached a double door with a keypad on the side. Jessup brought up the rear.
Carter leaned against the wall as Vincent punched in the numbers. Carter nonchalantly observed a
nd couldn’t explain why it seemed important to him to watch. Five-eight-forty-five-oh-five, he repeated in his head. Vincent watched him silently and then covered the keypad for the last number. He punched it with a flourish. The doors opened with an efficient whoosh.
They passed the weapons room, the doctor proudly pointing to rows and rows of twelve-gauge shotguns, each with a pouch of shiny shotgun shells the size of his thumb. Carter nodded appreciatively. They would stop a werewolf, vampire, or zombie in their tracks, he thought with satisfaction.
A diplomat took out a cell phone to take some video. He looked at Vincent, with a question in his eyes.
“Do you mind if I shoot this?”
“Be my guest. All of you.” Vincent gestured broadly.
They all withdrew their cell phones and started taking pictures.
“Impressive firepower. I bet it would take down an elephant, rhino, or hippo as well,” President McAdams added with a smile.
“Seems incongruous to have guns in a family theme park,” the ambassador from Germany grumbled.
A few people murmured, the crowd shuffling uncomfortably.
“Welcome to the twenty-first century!” Vincent shouted with pride, ignoring the observation.
The doctor led them into a large facility lined with five rows of computer consoles. Uniformed techs sat absorbed at each screen.
Vincent walked briskly ahead, waving the president and his entourage forward. Carter lagged behind, and his group took positions in the back of the room, silent guards lining the curved wall with quiet observation.
The entire facing wall was a collection of hundreds of screens that changed with the rapidity of a blink. Naked men in pens, a dining area filled with Gothically dressed vampires, their pale faces large on the monitor. There were various shots of the park, close-ups of workers, guests, and monsters.
Carter heard scattered laughter. His attention was drawn to a screen which displayed a hunchback cavorting like a circus clown. Vampire Village loomed behind the disfigured creature.
The hunchback was surrounded by a circle of guests poking him with souvenir axes that were already being purchased in the stores. He was an ugly little man, dressed as a medieval jester.
The giant hump looked like an exaggeration. That can’t be real, Carter snorted.
Another screen showed an infirmary with doctors in lab coats treating ailing inhabitants of the park. One room had rows of vampires having blood drawn.
President McAdams called out. “Are they giving or getting transfusions, Vincent?”
“Neither, Mr. President. We are taking their blood to study it.” Vincent warmed to his subject. “Imagine, if you will, if we could isolate the enzyme in a vampire’s blood and use it to tame a wild population.”
“A wild population of what?” the Russian ambassador asked, his face alert.
“Why, of revolutionaries and malcontents. Think, gentlemen—war will be obsolete.”
The room buzzed as some people debated the statement.
A general walked forward, considering the screen showing a vampire calmly having his blood withdrawn. “Sometimes being a revolutionary is not a bad thing, Dr. Konrad. Let’s not forget our great country was founded by revolutionaries.”
“The U.S. government is a democracy and would never turn against its people,” Vincent retorted.
“Governments don’t turn on the people; corrupt politicians do,” the general said gruffly.
“Come now, General Anthony, is it?” Vincent asked. “We are talking about Vincent Konrad and the United States of America. We are all perfectly safe.”
President McAdams walked over and pulled the general aside. They spoke, their faces serious. There appeared to be a disagreement, but the general was discreetly yet firmly disciplined.
Carter watched the exchange with fascination. Most people were absorbed with the many screens. There was a gasp, and a tremor seemed to travel through the group.
Carter’s eyes were drawn to a monitor showing a deserted suburban street filled with picturesque split-level homes. The room grew silent as the guests turned their attention to the image of a house that turned into an interior shot. There was a collective inhale, followed by uncomfortable rumblings.
On the monitor, a mass of squirming people fought over something on the floor. The camera closed in on the back of one man’s head. He turned, his eyes blank, his hand holding the disconnected limb of another, his mouth chewing rhythmically on fingers. No matter how many times Carter had seen situations like this on the news, it turned his stomach.
The room erupted with sounds of disgust.
Vincent snapped at one of his employees, and the scene changed to the main street of his park. President McAdams looked around, urging his team to be quiet with a stern look.
“Not a pleasant sight, ladies and gentlemen, but a stark reminder of what we are trying to accomplish here today,” Vincent began. He had their attention now. “Monsterland was created with the help of President McAdams and his administration to prevent the spread of the virus, as well as to protect the entire population of the United States. Other countries have joined our grand plan to eliminate this scourge to society by following America’s example.” The room quieted as the guests listened with rapt interest. “By nature, we are curious creatures. I used my natural interest to discover werewolves. Using my resources, I captured them all and brought them to the various parks to prevent them from rampaging through our communities.”
Carter smirked. He hadn’t heard of any rampaging werewolves. Apparently, they had been in the Everglades for eons and had lived unnoticed by the rest of society. Lie one, he began his count.
Vincent continued. “Vampires have lived among us, on the fringe of society, for a long time, but their disregard for our values has made them a menace as well as a nuisance. Their wholesale thirst to corrupt our youth had to be stopped and stopped fast. No country is safe from those vermin.”
Carter caught Jessup’s face and rolled his eyes. Vamps had lived peacefully among the population for years. They didn’t bother us, and we didn’t disturb them, he thought. Lie two. They were dying out now, having trouble adding to their numbers. It was against the law to make someone a vampire, the punishment swift and terrible. Only the occasional disenfranchised teenagers found themselves sucking blood, but, generally, it had been brought under control years ago.
While they were known to prey on people intent to join their ranks, usually these victims were turned into drones and released when the blood drawing stopped. Carter shook his head. If you didn’t give them an excuse to find a disengaged person, they eventually moved on elsewhere. Except for Melvin’s mother, Carter couldn’t think of another person he knew who had joined them. She ended up in Antarctica anyway.
“That brings us to the zombies.”
“The vitality-challenged,” President McAdams corrected. “We don’t like the other term.”
“Of course.” Vincent smiled. “The vitality-challenged presented a significant, expensive burden to the country as well as the world.”
“We are working on a cure,” the president said to the room at large, his hands outstretched with assurance.
“Indeed, we are,” the doctor took over. “Having them here kills two birds with one stone. You see”—he directed this to the Russian diplomats “—making them available in a safe environment is better for the entire population. Now people can see them safely. Even though their camps were high in the mountains, pesky interlopers would go there to investigate and, sadly, were infected, putting more people at risk. Here,” he said, pointing to a monitor, “we wear protective suits. We can study them, and people can see them without running the risk of bringing the infection home.”
Murmurs of approval circulated through the crowd. Carter grudgingly admitted that Vincent trumped him there. He couldn’t find fault with his logic—except he disapproved of making a freak show of people who were ill. Still, somehow it did feel like exploitation of the helpless.
He couldn’t approve any of it.
The screens filled with excited crowds clamoring to gain entrance.
Vincent gestured to the eager faces. “You see, ladies and gentlemen, with the help of all the governments of multiple nations, we have eliminated the danger, created a place to study, and alleviated the suffering of these beasts, and, perhaps—” he paused for effect “—we might even find that cure.”
The room broke out with sounds of hearty applause. President McAdams came forward, a warm smile on his face, to shake Vincent’s hand. “The people of the United States trust both their government and Dr. Vincent Konrad.”
The Russian ambassador moved forward to join the two men, “I want to add that our government and the people of Russia support this plan.”
Carter White exchanged a glance with Jessup. He didn’t vote for this president, and he sure as hell didn’t trust Vincent Konrad. “I thought we had a measure of freedom of choice in our country’s decisions?” Carter said out the side of his mouth to his friend. “What happened to the rest of Congress?”
“Majority rules?” Jessup shrugged.
“What majority?” Carter asked.
The president continued, “The government stands behind Vincent Konrad and Monsterland as a window to the future, to preserve and protect the good people of these United States and the world.”
This time the room erupted with cheers. Vincent leaned forward to whisper something into the president’s ear. They shared a secret smile.
Carter turned to Jessup. “I’ll bet you a week’s salary that he’s not sharing campaign tips.”
Jessup nodded grimly. They both watched Vincent escort the president and the Russian ambassador out of the room.
Chapter 14
Their feet echoed in the tunnel. They ran faster, Melvin and Sean laughing nervously. The dark passageway seemed to go on forever. Wyatt eyed several doors built into the wall, small lit signs above, designating them as Staff Only. There were no doorknobs, he noted, simply a small red light with a keypad next to each of the almost-invisible doors.
