Monsterland

by Michael Okon

  Carter’s breath whooshed out of him. He turned, running to the nearest outline of a door that he saw in the hallway. The paws scraped against the tiled floor, the loud panting filling his ears.

  He felt the sides blindly for a keypad. Closing his eyes, he frantically tried to recall the numbers Vincent typed into the keypad earlier.

  “Five-eight.” There were more. He pressed his sweaty head against the wall. He could do this. He muttered the numbers again. He moved his fingers over the keypad.

  Come on, numbers, numbers. What were those numbers? he thought, closing his eyes, trying to recreate the moment with Vincent. All he saw were those dark eyes mocking him. He slapped his head. Think, he ordered.

  “Five-eight-forty-five-oh- …” What was the next number? He tried again, going for the five.

  The animal was picking up speed. Another wolf landed with a thud after reaching its goal. Four pairs of claws clicked on the surface of the floor. There was an additional number to the code; he recalled Vincent had covered the keypad.

  A menacing growl echoed behind him. Carter hissed with fear, his fingers punching the keypad, going through the sequence, again and again, his fingers slick with sweat, pressing each of the digits until he got to seven.

  The wolf launched itself at Carter, the lock made a noise, and the door popped open. Carter squeezed in, slamming the door behind him, smiling at the satisfying thwack and the arm-numbing vibration of the wolf hitting the steel door. Carter slid to the floor, his back against the abused door, laughing with relief.

  Chapter 23

  The tunnel was dank. Water from the lagoon dripped from the overhead pipes. It was dark. Here and there, pools of blood coagulated around the battered bodies of the staff of Monsterland. The wolves had done their damage, Raoul told them. Now they were waiting for the chance to finalize their escape.

  Howard groaned. His neck ached as if it had been wrung—well, it had, he thought. He cracked open one eye to survey his surroundings. His glasses were gone, and everything had a fuzzy quality. They were underground, the belly of the park. He looked up at the pipes, knowing from the muted sound that he was under a body of water, like an aquarium.

  He peered around the dark space. Keisha was sitting, her eyes closed, her knees against her chest. A trickle of blood sluggishly oozed from a spot on her neck.

  Howard stiffened. Booted feet stood next to his face.

  “He’s up.” A girl with matted pink hair crouched to look at him. She pulled his face from the dirty floor. “I like him. Can I have this one?” she asked with a plaintive wail.

  Raoul separated himself from the shadows on the wall. “Not yet, Sylvie dearest. Young Howard here will lead us out.”

  Howard sat up, groaning. “How did you know my name?”

  Raoul smiled contemptuously. He nodded to Keisha. “My drone told me. She told me everything, Howard Drucker.” He said the name slowly, savoring it, as if by saying both names they were confidantes, close.

  Howard pulled his tied hands, bound painfully behind him.

  “What did you do to her?” he demanded.

  “Relax, lover boy. She’ll be coming out of it soon. I only sipped a bit of her nectar. She won’t stay in this state for long unless I maintain a steady diet.” Raoul’s eyes sparked.

  Howard pulled at the ties confining him, finally giving up, exhausted. “What is this place?”

  “Vincent’s idea of a scary roller coaster attraction. It remains unfinished but one day he intends to frighten the kiddies with trolls and dragons,” Raoul said with a sinister laugh.

  “As if vampires, werewolves, and zombies weren’t enough?” Howard replied.

  “You might as well stop fighting it. You can’t win,” Raoul told him in a silky voice. “We’ve been around forever. We’re real, we’re here, since the beginning of time. You can’t stamp us out.” He got up, walking around, warming to his subject. “You persecuted us for being different.”

  “You’re parasites.”

  “No better or worse than a deadbeat relative or a petty criminal. You’re stuck with us, so you better make the best of it.”

  Howard heard a sound, watching in revulsion as one vampire, then another, detached themselves from the darkness to scurry over to the pools of blood outside their hiding spots. He heard slurping and must have made a face.

  “We used to fascinate you.”

  “That was before I knew what you were.”

  “What are we?” Raoul bent down to touch his face familiarly. “Monsters?” He shrugged. “We do what we do to survive.” He snapped his fingers, and Keisha rose, her eyes blank. She walked toward him. He pulled her down to rest against him, settling her close with an intimacy that made Howard squirm. “You have to get us out of here.”

  Howard shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “You know, I like this one,” Raoul said in a friendly manner. “I droned her. Maybe I’ll go all the way. Turn her into one of us.” He stroked Keisha’s face. “Would you like that, my pretty?” he asked softly. He looked at Howard. “You know how we do that, don’t you?” The vampire observed the young boy’s clenched hands, his gritted teeth. “You wouldn’t like that, Howard Drucker,” he purred. “You wouldn’t like that at all.”

  Raoul stood easily, taking out a knife from his pocket, freeing Howard’s arms. The blood rushed through Howard’s abused limbs like needles.

  “Oh, I hear it, Raoul. Let me taste it,” Sylvie cooed. She rubbed his arms, her tongue flicking with delight. Howard pulled away from her, a sneer on his face.

  There was a crash above them. “Come, children,” Raoul ordered. “We must flee. Young Howard will lead the way.”

  He pushed Howard on the shoulder toward the passageway leading to their freedom and Howard’s hell.

  Chapter 24

  Wyatt sprinted toward the part of the park he wanted to go to, and the only area he hadn’t seen. He ducked into an empty store, ripped a T-shirt from a hanger and wrapped it around his stinging hand. His hand had stopped bleeding, but he looked like he had just come off a battlefield. He touched his bloody chest with disgust, grabbed another shirt with the theme park logo, and put it on.

  In the Monsterland streets there was no light but the dim emergency bulbs that flickered with an orange glow. Merchandise littered the ground, windows gaped, broken, and listless curtains waved like flags of surrender. Wyatt trod carefully, avoiding the dark red puddles. Piles of corpses lay on the pavement. The bodies were unrecognizable.

  A barricade separated him from Zombieville. A small suburban town had been built, that much he knew, but it was behind a steel wall, confined in an impenetrable prison, cut off from the rest of the park.

  A dismembered body lay on the ground, a steel mesh glove abandoned by its side. A scream split the air, breaking the silence.

  The steel gate that held the zombies from society shrieked as a lever groaned, and the gate started its slow movement, opening up Pandora’s box. It stopped at the midway point.

  Wyatt gingerly picked up the glove, pulling it on his arm. The mesh went all the way to his shoulder, where the leather strap looped over his head to hold it there.

  Wyatt heard cries and sporadic shots being fired in the park. The werewolves’ triumphant baying made it clear who won the battle. Slowly, the sounds of the violent encounters were dying down.

  Overhead, the stars twinkled from the inky sky; even the breeze had died.

  Wyatt sucked his breath in, but stopped from inhaling deeply, the sour stench of rotting flesh making the air heavy. He looked back through the alleys and streets he had come down, wishing he could go back, find his brother, and run for safety.

  A wolf howled, and he shivered. Jade was somewhere in there. In Zombieville. He had to get her and Nolan out. He put his foot forward and then followed with the other.

  He walked toward the metal gate, a solid wall of riveted steel. Wyatt pushed himself to move through it, his eyes searching the darkness.

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sp; He reached the attraction, the faint agonizing grunts and muffled moans floating on the still air. He stepped on a porous rock, wincing when the crunch magnified in the dark. A silence followed it, so thick he felt underwater.

  Wyatt sniffed, his face grimacing from the stench of decay. It enveloped him, smothering him until he felt his gullet meet the back of his throat. The axe felt heavy in his hands.

  He saw them from the corner of his eye. They were slow moving, just like he imagined. They lumbered with a mindless motion, rocking as if their kneecaps didn’t work. The zombies were in various stages of the disease, their skin a yellowish green.

  Most had their arms outstretched; some had eyes, others empty sockets with sticky black puddles that overflowed to paint their cheekbones in striated patterns.

  They shuffled rather than walked, and when the first one moved close enough so that its gnarled fingers brushed against the thick mesh adorning his arm, Wyatt reacted, whacking the axe against its head, watching in sickening astonishment as it cleaved it in two, brains spilling out like water from a broken faucet.

  The thing groaned, falling to its knees to land with a soft whisper on the floor. Wyatt backed away, revolted by the rancid stench of the blood, sickened by the way a group fell en masse like a tackle in a football game, the soft sucking and crunching noise of their feast making bile rise so that it coated the back of his throat.

  “Jade!” he screamed, his voice cracking. “Jade, where are you?”

  Frantic banging answered him from inside one of the houses, and Wyatt raced toward it, mowing down the slow-moving zombies in his path.

  Chapter 25

  Billy leaped by the trash can, a bark forcing him to stop. He turned, spying the new kid. He ran over and licked the cub’s ear, which was drenched in blood.

  The lad rubbed his face happily against him.

  Billy smiled—at first, he had been repulsed by the human when he’d invaded their territory. He was ready to rip his skin, to feast on the warm organs. When he held out the camera, as an offering, Billy’s conscience pricked him, and he decided to let him go. The tables turned when the kid begged to be incorporated into the pack.

  Little John was horrified. They hadn’t added for years—it was a code between them. It was a hard life, but the yearning in those eyes made him do it. A bite, a nip really, and their blood intermingled to morph and change the boy forever.

  It was instantaneous, a miracle to watch. The body embraced the changes, the youthful howls shivery in his delight.

  Of course, he was sloppy. His initial kill was a messy job, but, Billy thought with pride, the kid learned fast. After all, he led them from the confines of the dome to reach the guests enjoying the ride.

  “It’s eat them or be killed,” Billy warned. “No time for maudlin sentimentality like you showed those cops.” He gestured to the dead policeman at the base of the mezzanine.

  “I don’t have a collar like yours,” the cub yelped.

  “No need. These are collars of captivity. I like yours better,” Billy told him with gentle barks. He licked the gold werewolf head pendant. “See, it has green eyes that resemble our lights. You’re one of us now.”

  “For real?” he barked in wonder.

  “For real,” Billy responded.

  Melvin smiled a toothy canine grin and yapped, “Thank you.” He then turned to join in the bedlam.

  Billy’s eyes teared up. “No, thank you!” Billy was happy at last. Happy and free, thanks to the boy.

  Chapter 26

  Carter ran through the miles of halls, trying doors, using his formidable shoulders to break open the locks. He heard sobbing, and he banged on the door, finally kicking it open to find a trio of Monsterland employees huddling in the corner. One rose, brandishing a broom.

  “Where is everybody?” Carter demanded.

  “Gone. Gone or dead. There’s no way out. The wolves have the garage, the zombies just broke through their gate, and the vamps are missing. We’re doomed,” he cried.

  “Have you called for help?”

  “We’ve called Washington. They said help is on the way, but what kind of help?” a girl whined, her face lined with mascara.

  “They are going to bomb us; they have to.”

  Carter agreed grimly. “Where’s Vincent?”

  The man shrugged. “Probably gone.”

  Carter shook his head. “He wouldn’t leave.”

  “Try the main control room.” He pointed up the dark passageway.

  Carter nodded and took off. He heard them close the door, followed by the movement of furniture behind it.

  The halls echoed eerily. Carter passed the weapons room, paused, and then ducked inside to grab a shotgun. He stuffed as many shells as he could in his pockets and then loaded the gun. He came up to the control room, trying the doorknob. He double pumped the gun, blasting the locked doorknob so that the door flew open.

  Vincent Konrad turned around, his eyes opening wide with surprise. “Officer White, just in time.” He held a receiver to his mouth. “No, no, it was nothing. Everything is under control here. The president … ah yes, the president is in the eating facility, safe and sound. I’m afraid cell phones aren’t working well … I understand. Hmmm … well, that’s no problem.” His finger depressed the lever on the base, disconnecting the phone. “The Secretary of State. She’s so tiresome. I’ll have to do something about her tomorrow.”

  Carter grabbed the receiver from his hand. He punched in numbers.

  “Officer Carter White of the Copper Valley Police Force. We are in trouble here. The president is dead. Security’s been breached …” The line went dead.

  Vincent tugged and then held up the phone wire in his fist. “You’ll ruin everything. It’s all proceeding as it should. I have it all under control. Monsterland is safe.”

  Carter held up the gun. “You keep saying it’s safe, Doctor. Nothing could be further from the truth. It’s over, Vincent. Word will get out.”

  Vincent laughed, flicking on a console. “It already has. It’s all over the news.” He gestured to the multiple screens in front of him.

  The monitors lit up with every news station worldwide reporting on the massacres in all the different Monsterland parks around the world. Thousands were dead—every country had lost leadership. The globe was rudderless. “Right now, it’s just mass confusion. But that won’t last.” He chuckled. “The new president and I will swoop in.” He made a grandiose movement with his arms. “And save the world.”

  “I can’t even guess how many have died tonight.”

  “No, you can’t. Your simple civil servant brain can’t think larger than Copper Valley.” Vincent observed him thoughtfully. “You know what your problem is, White? You have no vision. You can’t see the forest for the trees.”

  “And you can?” Carter said with contempt.

  “Right now, all the governments are reeling. My people are sliding into planned positions as we speak.” He smiled again, as if reassuring a nervous patient. “Everything is fixable. Who needed McAdams anyway? He was a liberal with nasty little ideas. I’m in charge now.”

  “No, the vice president is in control of the country,” Carter said slowly as if talking to an idiot.

  Vincent threw back his head and laughed. “How do you think I was introduced to the president? Watch,” he said gleefully. He pulled out his cell phone. He pressed it so that it was on speaker.

  “Vincent?”

  “Nate … or should I say, President Owens—”

  “Is my father safe?”

  “He was marvelous. They loved him in the show—tell him, Carter, tell him how that naughty hunchback stole the show.”

  “Hunchback?” Carter asked.

  “I’ve called off the Air Force now that General Anthony is dead, and the new Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff has agreed to my wait-and-see approach,” the new president informed him. “I’ll deal with the Secretary of State as soon as I get off the phone with you.”

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nbsp; “Excellent, excellent. I couldn’t ask for a more perfect partner.” Vincent was all oily charm. He laughed and then said, “Time to publish the press releases, just as we said.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “By now, every official that attended Monsterland openings in any other part of the world is dead, food for the werewolves. Food for thought, for you, Officer White.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carter demanded.

  “It’s simple. For years the Russians have been tampering with our computers, raiding and stealing information. A sort of cyber-terrorism. Well, with the Russians’ envoy assassinating the president, as well as every other diplomat attending our parks, it gives President Owens very little choice other than to shut them down. The invasion of Russia’s infrastructure starts today. Have you taken down their satellite yet?” He directed the last question to the new president listening on the phone.

  “That’s crazy; the Russian envoy was murdered,” Carter shouted. “They didn’t attack.”

  “Sadly, once word gets out of the massacre here, it won’t matter. By then, I will be the new leader of Russia, and I’ll add restoring world peace to my resume.”

  Vincent walked calmly to a console, flicking on screen after screen so that the massacre of Monsterland looked like a cheap horror movie.

  “You’re mad,” Carter whispered. “You’re the monster. A monster and murderer.”

  “No, Officer White. I am brilliant, and I will save the world. I will do what no politicians or diplomats can do—finish the job.”

  “This was all planned?” Carter asked, with dawning horror.

  “A coup d’état,” Vincent said with a smile, hanging up on the president. He became thoughtful and said, “I used to catch wild pigs when I was a boy. Do you know how to catch wild pigs, Carter?”