by Michael Okon
“Nothing’s broken. It’s like they had a key or something.” Catfish shook his head. “Unless you forgot to lock ’em in before you finished.”
“It was locked,” Snake said. “Have you alerted security?”
Billy watched Catfish glare at Snake in a silent standoff. Peering through the bushes, he knew Catfish was squirming over his missing key. He snickered under his breath.
“Yeah,” Catfish replied. “Security will be looking for the beasts on the cameras.”
Billy spied his friends, their eyes meeting in silent communication. Little John grinned, his long teeth dripping with saliva in anticipation of the kill.
The beasts simultaneously crouched, their long nails scoring the packed dirt.
Black boots came closer, planting themselves right in front of Billy. He watched the moving camera rotate in the other direction.
A howl erupted from Billy’s throat. He leaped up, sinking his fierce teeth into the soft skin of Catfish’s neck, cutting off his vocal cords, so he died quickly and silently. The blood spurted like a fountain, 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 Snake’s chest, his snout pulling at muscles and tendons with keen relish.
He howled again, telling the others of his victory. Heavy feet intruded into 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 full with something, but Billy knew it wasn’t fear.
Billy trotted toward him. He heard an exhalation of breath, and the boy locked his gaze on the wolf in admiration.
The teen held out his hand in supplication. Emerald eyes from a gold pendant winked in the gloom.
Billy 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. Little John backed away, subdued.
He turned, his long fangs gleaming in the moonlight, blood from his victim dripping from their sharp tips.
The boy reached out again, his eyes filled with longing. He gripped the fur and then patted it gently. Billy paused; The vibration, the life’s blood pounding in the boy’s fingertips, danced in time to his own beating heart.
The teen whispered, “I need to belong somewhere. I want to belong.” He held out a grubby hand with something in it. “Want a Kickers?” 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 Konrad 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?” Vincent asked.
The general put his hands behind his back as he walked to the front of the group. “Not my style, this whole thing.”
“You don’t agree with the idea of placing the monsters in parks to be observed?” asked the Norwegian ambassador.
“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 Russian ambassador agreed. “This proves the world can cooperate to solve the problems facing our globe.”
Vincent nodded. “As you can see, my monsters are in a regulated situation with 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, proving to be a hard sell.
“Come now, General Anthony,” McAdams said. “This was a perfect idea. Dr. Konrad is happy to take on the expense. The world economy was at a standstill with the effects of the plague. It cost our 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 Chiswick turned abruptly. “Would you rather let them all die, perhaps? Dr. Konrad 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 an impasse. The debate over what to do with the plague victims polarized the government so that no bills were passed for over two years. Vincent Konrad saved this country.” Chiswick 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 eighteenth-century brothel wear, 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 teens are safe. The predators are locked up, under guard. They can be a cautionary tale to the unwise adolescent.”
Carter observed 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 watched a tech discreetly tap Vincent on the shoulder. His taut face conveyed a message that caused Vincent’s lips to tighten. Vincent excused himself quietly 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 twisted, smiling in a reassuring and condescending manner, telling the room at large, “Opening night snafus! My capable 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.
There were no cobbled streets here; recycled tire rubber lined the ground, and the buildings grew out of the black depths to stand like monoliths, their smo
oth surfaces polished to a dull pewter. The village was created around a circle instead of a town square. There was a screen with a countdown clock for the next show time. Stores lined the curved street, selling garish Goth clothing, peculiar hats, and shoes that would make Frankenstein’s monster feel right at home.
The teens met up at the entrance. Wyatt looked from Keisha’s unhappy face to Howard Drucker’s enthralled one.
Theo popped out from behind a doorway and said, “You ditched me at the commissary!”
Howard Drucker shook his head, and said, “No, we didn’t.”
“Yes, we did,” nodded Keisha with a smirk.
“What’d you guys see?” Wyatt asked.
“I was at the zombie shooting gallery near the entrance of Zombieville.” Theo said.
“We did nothing.” Keisha shrugged her shoulders. “We didn’t see or do anything.”
“We saw McAdams eating.”
“Awesome,” Sean responded. “Did they feed him anything cool, like a body part?”
“Don’t be a jerk.” Keisha dismissed them to walk ahead. She was miffed. The others followed her long-legged strides.
They wandered like tourists through the wide doorway of Undead Threads, a clothing shop filled with dark and brooding clothing that would appeal to the vampire-minded.
Wyatt saw Keisha’s eyes light up with mischief when she spied an attractive mannequin on a pedestal, dressed in a ripped T-shirt, and skintight leather pants that were heavily studded with sharp metal tacks. She giggled as she poked the figurine, her jaw dropping when the mannequin poked back.
“They’re all real,” she exclaimed, her eyes bright. The vampire was shockingly beautiful, taller than Keisha, no easy feat. His pitch-black shoulder-length hair was parted down the middle. His eyes were 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!” Sean pointed. He approached a towering Asian figurine with silky purple hair covering half his face. Sean reached out to tug his long military coat.
“See something you like?” asked the figure, bending down to eye level. He swung his hair in a wide arc revealing a face filled with anger mixed with contempt. His lips opened with a sneer, exposing sharp fangs.
The group reared back, Keisha stepping onto Howard Drucker’s feet. He steadied her, but she pulled away, moving closer to the leather-clad vampire, who jumped down from the pedestal.
“Who’s your little boyfriend?” 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 Konrad 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 arms around him. He jumped when she touched him, but her strong hands caressed his shoulders possessively.
Vincent separated them. “You’re scaring the children, Angie.”
Angie 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 torn fishnet thigh-highs.
“You’re supposed to entertain the guests. Angie and Ian, please escort the Norwegian ambassador and show him where we have blood drawn.”
Angie linked her arm with the diplomat, and the pair of vampires ushered him from the shop.
“Blood drawn?” Wyatt asked.
“Naughty boy. If you had stayed with us, you would have learned all about how we maintain the park. Vampires love blood.”
“Everybody knows that.” Howard Drucker came closer.
“Yes. It’s common knowledge. However, the misconception is that they need human blood. Simply not true. Being able to feed on any type of blood is 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 shook his head.
“Correct, young man. We keep them sated. They 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 reached for her hand, raising it to his lips, twisting it gently so he kissed the inside of her wrist. His eyes never left her face.
Howard’s jaw dropped as Keisha shivered, her cheeks flushed.
Raoul stood next to her, his pale fingers caressing her bare arm, raising goose bumps. “We only crave human blood when we mate.” He smirked at their shocked faces. “When we are attracted to someone, we want to make them one of us.” 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, swaying slightly, baring her elegant neck.
“Imagine that, a life without sex.” Vincent commented.
“They can mate with each other,” Howard said, his voice cracking.
He moved closer to Keisha, but Raoul looked at him with a sneer. Howard’s chest caved inward.
“Boring, boring, boring,” Raoul replied. “Could you eat 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!” Sean called out. “Are you saying they don’t bite people all the time?”
Raoul and Angie laughed, and Vincent chuckled alongside them.
A man wearing a military uniform 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 into their numbers. The population is dying out.”
Raoul turned to stare at them, his face bitter. “Rather unfair, if you ask me. We only initiated those who begged 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 demanded. Instead of seeing the vampire, all he saw was Keisha’s captivated 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.” He said with a menacing hiss.
Howard stared back, his body tense, his expression hostile. Wyatt and Sean came up behind him. The room was thick with silence, as if, somehow, sides were drawn.
Vincent checked his watch. “The show is starting momentarily. Move along, you don’t w
ant 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 glimpsed 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; the actor’s features were a garish mask. He was barely recognizable as a human. “Vincent, what were you thinking?”
“I was thinking of our future,” Vincent answered. “He’s a favor, nothing more. If you knew who he was connected to, you wouldn’t think about questioning it. 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 studied 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 glanced at Sylvie. “Don’t they always come back?”
Raoul smiled, his fangs showing. “Yes. Once they have a taste, they always return.”
Outside of the store, the hunchback skipped to Sean, where a crowd gathered. “Good evening.” One arm hung as if dislocated from his shoulder. He peered up at the boy, a dopey look on his painted face. Sean backed away. He had a broad smile with long, discolored teeth.
