Protect All Monsters

by Alan Spencer

  “No,” she confessed. “I’m scared. Is that so wrong?”

  “We’ve been in this business too long. Call us a bit jaded.” He closed the door softly behind them. The din of the caged animals continued, but he rushed her through that chamber and back into the refrigerator. “Follow me into the next room.”

  She rooted her feet to the floor. “I’m not going back out there. I heard them, whatever they are.”

  He produced a flashlight from his holster. “The things in there are secured and asleep. We inject enough sedatives in those puppies for a three-day sleep. Try not to make any loud noises, though. They tend to wake at screams. It’s an instinct thing. A hunting mechanism.”

  Richard squeezed her arm to the point it robbed the extremity of circulation. “Open your eyes and wake up. Snap out of whatever place you are in your mind. This is serious. I’m sorry your brother was gunned down, and I’m sorry your life has been taken away from you. That’s the way it worked out for me too. Why do you think I’m here? Does anybody cry a fucking tear for me? I’ve been exploited too, and so have many other unfortunate souls. The pity party will never show up. But we are saving lives, if it’s any consolation. Somebody has to, and jobs like these are thankless, so get over it.”

  He let go of her. “I’m also impressed with you. I’ve actually been with you the whole time. You’re resourceful. You think on your feet. You can go far in this job.”

  “How far can I go in two years?”

  He stifled a bitter laugh. “Everybody fails to connect the dots, so I’ll spell this out for you. The government pays a task force to act when something around you happens—murder, car wreck, robbery, whatever—and they kill you without actually taking your life. So this organization, the PSA, pays for your clothes, your trip out and to feed you and keep your life a secret. Do you think two years is enough of a trade? We can’t reintroduce you into society. You’re here for life, Addey. The contract you signed was bullshit. I hate to break it to you. Start dealing with it before we get to the island.”

  She braced herself against the shelf, but she turned to face a human head with its eyes wide open inside of a jar. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is happening to me?”

  She wept for herself, for Deke’s funeral she wouldn’t attend, and her family who would be mourning two deaths instead of one.

  They can’t do this to people.

  He shone the light in her face. She glared at him for the rude gesture. “You fucking asshole, who do you think you are? Sure, you’re here, you’re jaded as hell, but we can be civil about it. Don’t you shine that light in my face again, or I’ll shove it up your stinking ass!”

  He clapped. “Yes, show some animosity. There’s fight in you. Dig deep and find it. You’ll be needing it. Cowards die here. You’re not a woman anymore, you’re a tough bitch. Don’t be afraid to defend yourself. It’s allowed.”

  What did Mr. Quinn say to me? “Never be afraid to defend yourself. Nobody will hold it against you.”

  “How will I defend myself?”

  He clenched his fists and mashed them together. “Brute force, for one. Knuckles, those pumps on your shoes can gouge out eyes—think like that from now on. You establish yourself from the get-go, or else they’ll turn you into their pet—and to be their pet is to commit slow suicide. They’ll torture you, rape you and eat you alive. You really should’ve read the packet. It would save a lot of explaining.

  “You’ll be given the weapons I have, but you have to be confident in their use. Be resourceful in a different way. You have that quality we’re looking for. Do a good job, and you won’t be working the shit jobs for long, I promise.”

  He pointed to the door. “So are you ready to see what you missed in that other room?”

  Chapter Six

  The room was as dark as it had been before. Richard warned her not to talk or ask questions. Her job was to observe and nothing more. He placed a red disc over the head of his flashlight. The light was now infrared. She kept behind him for safety. Once lit up by the red, the room was smaller than she imagined. The noises she’d heard had emanated from the back corner. That section was bordered off by fence wire. She caught the rough shape of a human, though barely an outline. She focused on what her eye struggled to identify. It wasn’t real or anything her brain recognized from memory.

  The person was chained by the arms and ankles, the shackles rooted to the floor by bolts of steel. The animal-being was six feet tall, maybe taller. A lion’s mane covered its neck and back, giving the creature an exaggerated hunchback. Three hundred pounds, she guessed the wolfish creature was. It was made up of sculpted muscle. Even asleep, its muscles flexed involuntarily. The coarse hair poorly covered its flesh, like a baby chicken freshly hatched from the egg. The leathery flesh was satchel brown. The size of its phallus made her blush. It was much larger than a man's, and imagining it in use was cringe-worthy. The face was elongated as a dog’s, the lips a quarter of an inch thick with a resemblance to hamburger. Its eyes were closed in harmless slits. The hands hanging at its sides were bludgeon-size, big enough to wrap around her head and more. The talons were curled in at the tip and inches long.

  Richard guided the red light across the wall. There were others curled up in dog sleeping positions, the females slender and brighter coated with manes and longer tails. She counted fifteen total. Her eyes roamed over them again and again. The exhibit didn’t change, yet it grew more interesting with each observation. The closest she could surmise them to be were werewolves, but these creatures were different. They resembled humans as much as they did wolves. Breasts were identical on the females. One wolf had its eyes open, and they were very much like a human’s in shape and color. Questions threatened to burst from her, and Richard sensed the pressing need for her to talk, so he guided her to the exit expediently.

  The afternoon sun was up in the sky, beating hot and intense. She shielded her eyes until they adjusted; then she leaned against the door to the creature room and expelled a long breath. “What in hell were those things?”

  He smiled. “Ah, yes, you’d ask that.”

  Richard escorted her back to her room. “Anything on this island is an offspring of man. They’re real in the flesh and blood sense, but they’re monsters.”

  “Monsters?”

  “We call them that to keep things simple. What you should be more concerned about is identifying them, reading up on them and learning how to defend yourself against our guests.”

  “Our guests?” Addey was outraged. “Are we catering to those werewolves? Coffee and cookies and mints on pillows?”

  His smile bordered on shit eating. “You’re quick, Addey. I have high hopes for you.”

  Once they were outside her room, he said, “Now I suggest you read that packet of information cover to cover. You should feel privileged. I don’t let everybody see the wolves so early on. You have a leg up on everybody else on the boat.”

  “How many people?”

  “Oh, it’s about twenty.”

  “Then why the huge boat?”

  “You witnessed the stuff we have in storage. You’re not the only cargo on this boat. This is a supply vessel. We have mouths to feed, both human and monster. And we’re transporting new monsters too. They pop up time and again.” Lightly shoving her into her room, he said, “In you go, and stay in. Read up. Hey, when you’re done, go to the deck up the stairs where you see the tables and umbrellas. There’s an open bar and open cafeteria. Get some food. You’ll need your energy.”

  Before she could add anything, the door was closed.

  Alone, she stared at the manila folder on her cot.

  She cracked it open and began to read.

  Chapter Seven

  Addey read the official document with both interest and puzzlement. The cover page read:

  PSA DOCUMENT

  EXECUTIVE ORDER #18049

  PAM COMPLEX

  She flipped to the next page, entitled Origins Of PAM.

  Dear
fellow citizen, you are honored to be picked for this duty. Your country needs you. The PAM Complex is a simple acronym: protect all monsters. Yes, monsters do exist. They have from the beginning of time in one stretch of reality or another. Some monsters have recently popped up in existence: for example, ghosts. They have only been around for the past century. The walking dead, however, have existed since Biblical times. Jesus Christ really did return from the grave, but he was burned to death after murdering three disciples in cold blood. There are other phenomena on this island, and you’ll read about them too. For now, this order addresses the reason the government has banded together to contain these monsters.

  The main reason we started this program is because the monster populations have grown. Monsters can blend into society so well that they’re a danger to our citizens. Another reason for the program is that the monsters must be studied. We must comprehend why the dead can walk. Why do ghosts exist? If ghosts and the walking dead exist, are they connected to the afterlife, and if so, can we coax secrets from them about the world beyond us? Maybe the hybrid nature of our residents can be used to cure diseases? The most pressing reason is people can’t handle the notion of living among monsters. Terrorists are feared in everyday media; imagine flesh-eating terrorists? Citizens will form brigades to hunt them out, and innocent people would die in their fervor. Chaos would reign.

  The PAM Complex has existed since 1974, but in the United States, similar projects have existed in the form of underground bunkers and secret camps throughout the nation for nearly a century. These bunkers were simple wire cages to confine the monsters, but their escape was inevitable, and their demands had to be heeded. They were controllable with food and shelter fit for their needs, but their numbers kept increasing. So we created the island to harbor them safely. You will be face-to-face with the creatures during your work here. They are very real and are a constant threat to you.

  What is your job then? The PAM Complex is designed especially for the monsters we harbor. We must keep them happy, and that means being well fed and busy. Imagine the animals of a zoo. They must be stimulated, cared for and medically treated and, most of all, their every need must be attended to. Our accommodations are as unusual as they are time consuming and complicated. Our staff is equipped to complete tasks including room service, meat preparation and habitat creation. You will be assigned a section and learn the ropes of the complex. You will be on call 24/7.

  The next issue to hit upon is personal safety. You will be given a communication device much like a beeper. After every service stop or duty completed, you will dial a number that indicates to our comptrollers you are safe. If you’re in distress, there will be a number you can dial for backup. You will be equipped with a .28 caliber service pistol. The bullets will be coated with a garlic nitrate to repel vampire attacks. Also, you will carry a four-inch boning knife and industrial flashlight. Hand-to-hand combat is strongly forbidden. Use your weapons. Your death is not our responsibility. Being smart and using skill and cunning will serve you better than emptying your pistol. More often than not, the bullets will only stun or hinder the monsters momentarily. There are also chambers similar to panic rooms for distress situations. You can radio for help and take shelter in these units. Again, your safety is your own responsibility. There are no police here to protect you. Only your coworkers can help you.

  Addey flipped over the page to a series of pictures. The first was the werewolf creatures Richard had showed her earlier. They were in a pack within a facility that mimicked woods—even moonlight, trees and a lake gleamed in the background—but it looked computer fabricated. The second page was a standing corpse in funeral attire. Half the face was white bone, the rest blackened skin busied with grub worms and a colony of mice festering in its chest cavity. The corpse was decades old, she guessed, a sneer and scowl built in where the remaining flesh held strong. The third page revealed a naked woman of feather-white flesh marred by protruding blue veins and red-and-black eyes (the red color the shape of two triangles side by side) swimming in a pool of blood. Her teeth were jagged and bent like jig hooks. The fourth picture puzzled her. Normal people in street clothes were gathered together on what looked to be a dance floor, but they were surrounded by a glowing purple fog. The colors were emanating from their bodies. They otherwise appeared human.

  She turned the page and read on, unable to make sense of the strange picture.

  The next heading read, The Dead.

  The dead can return to life. There is no single or solid reason for their awakening. Our scientists speculate an assortment of causes. One, people didn’t always bury their dead in coffins or in the ground. People died without being discovered, and their bodies came back alive from a state of soul unrest. Earthquakes and flooding and other natural disasters are rumored to stir the dead from eternal slumber. A more educated reason: embalming fluid. The components of embalming fluid have been updated and changed time and time again because of the dead waking. The chemicals reanimate the brain, like a steroid, and stimulate life. This life can have two different levels of intelligence. The subhuman, dead for longer than a year, tend to rot out before they can do extensive harm to innocent civilians. They act out random and erratic behaviors. Violence ranges from cannibalism to mutilation. The other kind of dead are the freshly dead. They are functioning at a human level. Their skin can be treated and repaired to resemble normally functioning human beings. They do not crave violence, only the creature comforts of life: food, booze, sex and entertainment.

  Dispatching the dead can be an irksome task. They can be dismembered and the brain removed, and they will still function. Douglas Findley, a Dutch scientist, boiled them down to blood and bile, and the substance slithered in liquid form. Don’t be mistaken: damaging the body can slow the dead down and save your life. True execution of the dead requires total incineration. The recently dead are harmless as long as their brains and bodies are medically preserved, but the extensively decayed must be approached with caution. They can be subdued with human meat and animal bodies. As long as they are fed meat on a regular basis, they will ignore you.

  She peered out the window to rest her eyes. The ocean was as endless as it was entrapping. The werewolves were real, so why wouldn’t the dead be real? She was in serious danger, she kept telling herself. Her stomach churned, tightening in the anticipation of meeting the creatures she read up on. Richard said he expected great things of her. What would it mean to excel at the PAM Complex?

  Having no answers, she read on to the next heading: Vampires.

  Vampire is an easy classification of this hybrid creature. They have existed as long as the walking dead. Vampires are human beings with severe forms of anemia. Their blood runs thin or not at all in their veins. There are cases throughout history that point to humans born without hearts, and they eat their mothers’ uteruses and innards during the birth cycle to keep their bloodstreams fed. This form of hyperanemia, as it was named by Richard Salvati in Rome, can only be subdued by the massive consumption of blood. Humans born without hearts are not the only deformation these creatures exhibit. The deformations that affect both sexes of vampires include the growth of wings, enlargement of teeth, enlargement of circulatory system, extension of fingernails, mutation of eyes (including the shape of iris and a heightened sense of sight), paleness of skin and strange formation of a sticky, viscous fluid at their legs and fingertips that allows for climbing. And the females harbor abilities that males do not. For example, the female can lactate blood to sup males back to life and feed their children. Females can go into heat and release a pheromone that will render any human—male or female—submissive. The males do not have sway over their hosts except by brute force and fear. Vampires can perish by a series of methods. Your bullets are coated with garlic. This stuns the vampires but cannot kill them. Sunlight does nothing. Vampires can only die if their hearts or brains are destroyed or they are starved of blood for three months. (Citizen, you can see why hunting vampires in populated a
reas would be as dangerous as it would be unwise). The only method to subdue the vampires is to give them what they want, and that is blood. A glutted vampire is a harmless vampire.

  She thought back to the refrigerator compartment. The stock of human limbs and organs did have a purpose. They fed these creatures and kept them “subdued”. The situation became realer with each passage she read. This wasn’t a fabrication. Two years was long enough to be here, but Richard had debunked that myth. She would be here forever.

  She suddenly wanted a drink at that open bar.

  Finish reading first. I have to know everything.

  The next heading read Werewolves.

  Werewolves are also of human origin. The werewolves have only existed for less than thirty years. The popularity of dog breeds and conceiving unnatural mixes has been popularized by the AKC and other breeder associations. A group in southern Kentucky decided to manipulate dog DNA even further. The group consisted of animal rights activists. They were also multimillionaires with the facilities and the equipment to create mixed species. The group labeled themselves “Humans and Animals for Equality.” This group decided to swap dog DNA with human DNA. This would blur the line between human rights and animal rights. What’s fair and unfair? Where do we draw the line between animal cruelty and human punishment now? What was created in Kentucky is the pack of wolves pictured previously. They slaughtered the activist group. The bred wolves escaped the facility and continue to pop up in packs across the United States. Never cross the alpha male or alpha female. They are the most dangerous. But if you kill either, you render the group helpless, and the pack dissolves and becomes less of a threat. Werewolves can die like anybody else, but with enlarged bodies, they can take fifty bullets and still fight back. The shock of blood loss and the ceasing of bodily functions can take up to thirty to sixty minutes to set in. Escape to the panic rooms is the best mode of survival.