Monsterland

by Michael Okon

  Keisha pulled him toward the line that served cafeteria-style food. The restaurant was called Blud & Gutz.

  Howard stopped short. “You sure you want to eat here?”

  “It’s fine, it’s just a gimmick.”

  The servers were dressed in medieval costumes with plague makeup. There were stations filled with massive amounts of hot food from pizza to roast turkey.

  “What about one of the other places?” Howard pointed to La Petit Beast, a fine dining establishment that was cordoned off in readiness for distinguished guests.

  Keisha rolled her eyes and said, “We can’t afford it. I bet The Skullery is too expensive for us too.”

  Howard looked at the casual coffee shop and nodded, “You’re probably right.”

  The noise level in the hall sputtered and then grew silent. A huge group of men in suits were escorted by uniformed officers toward La Petit Beast. Vincent Konrad walked with President McAdams, followed by ambassadors, military types, and others in the retinue.

  “Wow, President McAdams,” Howard said with reverence.

  “I wouldn’t mind eating with him,” Keisha cooed. “That would make for some interesting conversation.”

  Howard pulled back. “Don’t you want to wait for the others?”

  “Do you have to do everything with Wyatt and Melvin, Howard Drucker?” She moved closer to him. “Don’t you ever want to do anything on your own?”

  Howard shifted nervously from foot to foot. “We’re hardly alone.” He gestured to the crowds rushing around them. He felt strangely naked here with Keisha. What could she possibly see in him? He winced. Words clogged his throat; he didn’t know what to say. What if he said something dumb—she would hate him.

  Keisha was amazing, from the top of her wild hair to the tips of her toes. She was so smart; she understood Shakespeare like no other student in the class.

  Howard gulped, sweat dotting his forehead. Something stupid darted through his usually trustworthy brain. He searched that betraying organ for a clue on how to proceed, and, while it knew every mountain and crater on the moon’s surface, it drew a big blank on polite conversation with a beautiful girl.

  Howard noticed Keisha’s dark eyes survey him, a frown on her face. He was short, so short that he barely reached her shoulder. How could he even think she would be interested in a guy like him?

  Howard had a wry wit, but the pithy remarks dried on his parched tongue. The room narrowed to the two of them. His eyes drooped, and he saw Keisha through a strange, spangled veil. He saw her eyes spark and then her lips widened as she moved closer to him. She was so close their breaths intermingled, and Howard swore his glasses were fogging up.

  He couldn’t stop the next remark in the same way he couldn’t fight the tide or the pull of a full moon. “Don’t you want to see the vampires?” he whispered.

  “Are you kidding me?” Keisha hissed with disappointment, then added, “You and your useless vampires, Howard Drucker.”

  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 working in tandem either.”

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

  Keisha groaned, 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

  Sean was glued to a window on the main street of the faux village.

  “Tattoos! Wanna get one?” he asked with excitement. Inside the store, 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,” Sean persisted.

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

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

  Sean nodded. “Yeah, Carter. He may find everything, but he’s not our dad. He has no say in what we do, nothing! If I 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 moved to enter the doorway of the next shop. Wyatt followed him into the dark interior. Racks filled with shirts, sweatpants, and hats with the Monsterland logo closed in on them. It was packed so carefully together; they had to turn sideways to meander around the store.

  Sean 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. Wasn’t this 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.

  “Don’t you want a sweatshirt?” She held up a thick gray sweatshirt that was 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 responded. “Whose idea was all this?”

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

  Wyatt shook his head. Sean 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 town, guests 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 is so special about this place? He thought for a minute. Each of the main attractions was a tragic example 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 TV, their dark, sunken eyes vacant. A hunchback danced around four vamps who played various instruments lethargically.

  Sean 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. The light hurt, and his chest vibrated with their pulsing melancholy chords that played in monotonous repetition. They were horrible. Looking at their bland faces, without a spark of humanity, was like watching wax figures. They are no better than zombies, Wyatt thought wildly.

  He turned suddenly, now looking at a screen broadcasting the River Run. Howling figures clamored under 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. Did I look 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 himself.

  He suddenly realized 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, nice shirt, Seanie,” Nolan shouted. “Anyone hungry?” He thrust 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 grasp grew tighter. He could hear Jade’s voice imploring Nolan to let go. Nolan’s raucous laughter filled his ears, then Nolan cursed, 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 Sean 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. “I want to leave.” She glanced back at Wyatt, her face filled with despair.

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

  Sean 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 seemed 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 by the elbow. “You going to Vampire Village?”

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

  “See ya.” Nolan made an abrupt spin, dragging a reluctant Jade, and started walking briskly toward Zombieville.

  “Carter!” Sean said to his stepfather, his face filled with happiness. “This place rocks. We just did the River Run. They have a fake full moon—”

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

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

  “I’m on break.” Carter’s gray eyes studied the crowd, coming to rest on a trio of guards at an entrance. “What’s up with that Nolan kid?”

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

  “Do you want me to—”

  “I said I can handle it,” he repeated, his mouth set in a grim line.

  Carter raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond. He continued to watch the guards, his face frowning.

  Wyatt moved closer, turning to see where Carter was looking. “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 glanced at it and smiled. “Finally. Howard Drucker, Vampire Village in five minutes.”

  Sean 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 show, 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 seems odd to you?”

  Wyatt studied the crowds. He glimpsed 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 masses.”

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

  “What?” Carter looked him full in the face. He seemed to want Wyatt to confide in him, to come and ask for advice. Wyatt paused. He couldn’t do it.

  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. Konrad could have bad intentions.”

  Carter laughed. “Yeah, sure.” He ruffled Wyatt’s hair.

  Wyatt pulled his head away, annoyed.

  “Look, if it gets crazy in here, just break the glass of one of those emergency cases and use the axe,” Carter said, his voice serious.

  Wyatt held up the silicone hand that Nolan gave him, and wiggled it. “I’ll throw this at the zombies if they attack.”

  “You want that?” Sean asked.

  Wyatt shook his head and then considered his brother. “You want it?” he asked, disgusted. Sean nodded eagerly.

  Wyatt handed him the fake appendage. Sean smiled, grabbed it, and turned to enter the next attraction.

  “Hey, Sean,” Wyatt called. “Thanks for watching my back.”

  Sean 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 murmured.

  Wyatt cocked his head. “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’s deep-set eyes squinted 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. 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 was eyeing him skeptically, and Wyatt was glad he chose to stay silent.

  “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.” Carter pushed away from the stanchion on which he was leaning. 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 chuckle. “That’s what a father is 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 had 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.

  He looked at the camera rotating on its axle. Counting silently in his head; Billy knew he had four minutes left before he had to move. The guard, Billy recently decided to call him Catfish because he smelled like three-day old fish, was due to walk through this portion of the glade. Little John named the other guard Snake.

  Billy had slipped away when the president arrived. 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.

  Billy and his pack 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 to 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 dull the brightness.

  He heard talking.

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

  “They’re probably taking a crap in the woods,” the one they called Snake responded. “How’d they get out of the pens?”