Monsterland

by Michael Phillip Cash

  “Pork chops?” He asked, his dark hair tousled. “You okay?” He slipped his gun onto the top of the cabinet over the sink. “Ah…” he commented as another bout of shouting ensued. “Have you heard any bodies hitting the floor?”

  He reached forward to take her into his arms. She fit perfectly beneath his chin, her body tense. He rubbed her back and then looked up when a thud shook the walls. “I’ll get them.”

  “No, I’ll do it.” Gracie stopped herself when she saw the hurt flit across his face. He was trying so hard to bond with them. She cocked her head. “You sure?”

  “I got it.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. Gracie heard his feet navigate the small house and then heard his knock on the door. The shouting stopped. Carter complained that the boys treated him as if he was temporary, like a rental. She hated that they’d clam up, their faces bordering anger when he disciplined them. While she knew that they liked him, blending the family had proven a lot harder in practice than in theory. Carter was a world of difference from their father. He was a good man—fair, kind, not flashy, the salt of the earth. In other words, the exact opposite of their father. He was a damn sight better parent than Jack ever was, but time dulled the disappointments, leaving memories as rosy and as a sentimental as a Disney movie. She didn’t get it, Jack had practically abandoned them and bankrupted her, forcing her to find a job in her old hometown, leaving LA and their privileged life behind them. In the end, he barely saw the kids; he was traveling too much for his client. She knew nothing more. Jack was secretive and greedy, leaving her to fend for herself and support the kids. Originally, she thought he was doing that so he could get custody, but she soon realized he didn’t give a crap about them at all. Maybe it was better the boys didn’t understand that. What good would come out of them feeling abandoned. She craned her neck, listening intently, but couldn’t hear anything. She had asked the kids to call Carter Dad, but they creatively managed to call him anything but that. Maybe they’d start calling him Dad soon.

  She laid the platter of meat on the kitchen table and went back to mashing the potatoes. It was quiet in the house, and, by the time she was placing the mountain of steaming string beans on the serving dish, she heard the thuds of three sets of feet making their way into the hot kitchen.

  The kitchen grew cramped as the three adult-sized males filed in. Wyatt grabbed his chair, Josh had a wide smile, and Carter’s face was unreadable.

  “Sharing is caring,” Grace said helpfully, expecting an explanation.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Josh said loudly. “See, I told you.”

  Gracie looked at Carter, her head cocked in question. “So?”

  Carter held his hand out for the mashed potatoes to be passed to him. He looked at Wyatt with raised eyebrows.

  “I don’t think it’s fair,” Wyatt said mulishly. “Look, it’s my ticket.”

  “I told you how we are going to handle it.”

  “You’re not my father! I don’t have to do what you say.”

  “Wyatt!” Gracie said sharply. “Apologize this instant to your dad.”

  Carter watched him intently.

  “Sorry,” he said insincerely and then added, “Carter.”

  Gracie sighed, and Carter stopped her with a gentle hand. “It’s good enough, Grace.”

  “Look, I can’t give an opinion if I don’t know what happened,” Gracie said.

  “I…Vincent Conrad came into work today.”

  “What…Instaburger?”

  “Yeah, well…he has to eat right?” Wyatt said defensively.

  Grace shuddered. “I’m surprised. I guess I never expected him to eat at a place like that.”

  “More’n likely he eats the same swill as the zombies,” Carter commented.

  “He’s okay,” Wyatt replied. “He’s more than okay—he’s a humanitarian.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Carter said.

  “He’s the best!” Josh half stood from his place with excitement.

  “Settle down, Josh.” Carter nodded.

  Josh hopped from foot to foot. “Listen to your dad,” Gracie told him.

  Both boys looked at her but said nothing. Josh remained standing.

  “What did he do?” Gracie broke the silence and put more beans on Josh’s plate.

  It wasn’t that they didn’t like him; it felt unnatural. While their own father had not been father of the year, he was still their dad. Gracie didn’t have to like it, but some things were bigger than divorce.

  “Aw, Ma,” he whined at her stern expression.

  “He gave Wyatt four free tickets, and I want the extra one,” Josh crowed.

  “Tickets…to Monsterland? I thought we talked about that.” Gracie put down her fork. She turned to Carter. “We didn’t take the tickets he offered to all the town workers. No…I won’t allow it.”

  “Mom!” Both boys said at once.

  Wyatt was first. “I don’t know why you don’t want to let us go. He gave me a special pass, one that would allow us behind the scenes, to see how the park works.”

  “Yeah!”

  “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance,” Wyatt added.

  “He has four invitations!” Josh shouted.

  “Shut up, Josh,” Wyatt said hotly.

  “Wyatt…” Carter warned sternly.

  Wyatt’s cheeks grew red with frustration. He continued, his voice slightly elevated. “He gave me special VIP passes. He said it was safe. The mayor, senator, and governor are going to be there.”

  “President McAdams too,” Carter said glumly and then added, “and me.”

  “You?” Gracie looked miserable.

  “We’ve all been called in. Jessup’s even bringing in volunteers. We’re not equipped to handle the level of people attending.”

  “Dr. Conrad should supply his own guards,” Gracie said resentfully as she stacked used dishes.

  “He is,” Carter placated her. “He is supplying them at all seven of the parks. He is having his global opening tomorrow. This is the biggest thing to hit the planet.” He shrugged, his face unhappy. “Look, Grace, once the president said he was attending, they had to pull out all the stops.”

  “It’s like being part of history. I have to go. He asked us to be his ambassadors to tell the world about Monsterland,” Wyatt said.

  “Carter,” Gracie implored.

  “I agree with you, but Grace…” He looked her full in the face. “It’s safe. Conrad’s got it all under control.” He looked at the eager boys and then back at her. “I’d rather they got it out of their systems on a day when security will be high than a regular day. Besides, I’ll be there as well.”

  Gracie still wasn’t happy. “What was the fight about?”

  “Manny gave me an extra ticket. Max Peterson offered me five hundred dollars for it.”

  “You’re not scalping a ticket,” Carter said, looking at his stepson. “You might as well give it to Josh.”

  “See.” Josh beamed. “I’m going to Monsterland. Thanks, Carter.”

  “Yeah, thanks, Carter,” Wyatt said resentfully.

  “They can watch out for each other,” Carter said with a shrug. He looked at Wyatt. “Are we okay?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Carter said a quiet, “No.”

  The room grew dark as twilight moved in. Josh rose to turn on the light to chase the shadows from the kitchen. In the distance, the wolves howled.

  Grace’s lips tightened. “You’ll be home early?”

  “Early in the morning,” Josh said.

  “What do you mean, early in the morning?”

  Wyatt put down his fork and knife, calmly stating, “The park opens at sunset, Mom.”

  Gracie looked at Carter, question in her eyes. “Sunset?” Her voice squeaked.

  “I’ll be working.” Carter looked at both boys. “I’ll be there Gracie,” he said, and the subject was closed.

  CHAPTER 7

  Vampire Village

&nb
sp; “You don’t expect me to live this way?” Sylvie threw down the plastic packet of blood so that it leaked sluggishly on the Styrofoam dishes they used in the commissary exhibit. Really, it was a mock restaurant in the Vampire Village. Nobody could eat with the zombies, and nobody wanted to eat with the werewolves. “I can’t eat with these things on.” She gestured disgustedly at her capped fangs. It was late in the day, and they had all just woken up. The windows had been blackened to keep out the hot desert sunlight.

  “Come on, baby,” Raoul pleaded. “It will only be for a little while. They said things will improve when money starts pouring in.”

  “I don’t know why we have to wait. I hate this place,” she said with a sneer.

  “Vincent Conrad is the richest man in the world. He promised us a better existence,” Marissa complained. She looked contemptuously at the handful of vamps sucking on their packets in the dining room. She turned her attention to the guard standing by the exit. She had been recruited in New York, along with four others. She was tall with long legs, and she had ivory-colored hair. Her eyes were golden like a cat, and they glowed in the dark. She started to rise.

  “Where you going?” Marvin stared glumly at his plate. He was Asian, with jet-black hair and a wide face. They were living together in the rooms above the park.

  Marissa smiled slyly. “Dessert,” she said simply.

  Sylvie and Raoul looked up, their argument stalled, watching Marissa circle the guard, who ignored her. She leaned against the wall, smiling coyly at him. He smirked back but turned his face straight ahead. “She can’t do that,” Sylvie said, with a shake of her pink curls. “What about her caps?”

  “Watch her,” Marvin responded with a sly smile, his fangs evident.

  “Where are yours?” Sylvie whispered harshly.

  “Look. If you leverage your fork just so…” He pushed the tines of a fork against a lever on the side of her mouth. She felt the brace pop. “Voilà,” Marvin said with flourish, holding the offending plastic caps in the palm of his hand. “Just slide them in for inspection. They’ll never know.” He sucked on his packet, the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “I hate mystery blood. Ugh, what is this stuff?”

  “It’s better than the fish blood they gave us last week.” Sylvie made a face, sliding the caps into her pocket.

  “It sent those two guys from Nashville to the infirmary. I haven’t seen them since.” Marvin threw down the half-filled packet with revulsion. “They can’t expect us to survive on this. We have to do something.”

  “Like what?” Raoul said tersely. “We’re practically prisoners.”

  “Marissa’s planning something big.”

  “She’s satiating her hunger, nothing more, selfish bitch. I wish we were placed in the Paris park.”

  “Ooh la la. Aren’t you fancy.” Marvin laughed. “Do you think they serve wine with the blood over there. I heard they are getting the same garbage.”

  “Marissa’s just a flirt. She wants all the men for herself,” Sylvie said with malice.

  “A lot you know,” Marvin retorted. “She’s staging a revolution, one guard at a time,” Marvin said with a sly laugh. “There she goes.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Slowly, Marissa moved closer. They could hear her giggling, as if the guard made a joke.

  She inched to his side coyly, whispering something in his ear. Marissa disappeared behind the door, the guard leaving a second after her.

  “Sly,” Raoul said with appreciation.

  “It’s against the rules!” Sylvie protested.

  “Marissa doesn’t follow rules.”

  “What will she do with the body?” Sylvie whispered.

  “She’s not going to kill him. She’ll get him in a spot where nobody will see it. See that sanitation worker there?” He pointed to a uniformed worker cleaning out a trash can. “She got to him a week ago. He’s a drone too. The cafeteria lady, the maintenance workers…she’s working her way through the entire staff,” Marvin said.

  Raoul shook his head. “She’s jeopardizing it for all of us.” He was fiddling with the lock on his own caps. They heard the familiar pop, and he smiled as he slid them off. “Ah…what a relief.”

  Marvin lowered his voice. “Look, she’s actually got the right idea. I think we should drone them all. Think of it as insurance. I’m not too sure about Conrad.” Marvin looked around the room. “I don’t trust him. He hasn’t delivered a thing. Aside from that, there were more than two dozen of us when we started. We’re down to fifteen now. What happened to those other vamps? I’m thinking of busting out.”

  “And go where?” Raoul whispered.

  “I still have relatives. They are in the blast zone in China; nobody wants to go there. We could hide out in Shanghai and move our way inland.”

  “How will we get there from here? We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Raoul said with a hiss.

  Marvin rolled his eyes toward the cafeteria worker. “The drones. They get us through the desert safely. They know the area.”

  Raoul gave a slight nod. “It might work. We’d have to travel at night, once the sun’s gone down. You have to get one that knows his way around.”

  “You think?” Marvin said with a laugh.

  Raoul nodded in assent. Things had been terrible since they arrived. The doctor oozed charm when he painted a picture of recreating all their former glory. Instead, Conrad gave them shabby reproductions of eighteenth-century clothing, and he stuck them in a sterile version of his concept of East Germany. They were assigned roles in a cheesy rock musical, the music so embarrassingly bad it was a more painful to perform it than hear it. And there was that stupid hunchback he forced into their act. What did he have to do with their image? Raoul had heard a rumor that the good doctor was doing a favor for someone who wanted a relative hidden. Someone who was rather important, he thought angrily. It took a lot of gall to place that creature with the vampires. He had a good mind to take it up with the doctor, but lately he hadn’t been seen. Too busy with his precious openings. Every bad stereotype was there, making a mockery of their kind. It was supposed to be a place to keep them apart from the population, allowing them to be who they were in a safe environment. While some found them mysterious, even sexy, Vincent made them into a joke. The show was humiliating. They weren’t scary—he didn’t revitalize their image. Then there were the forced blood withdrawals. Vincent started taking their blood—for what, Raoul could only guess. Worse than that, he heard grumblings that Conrad was feeding the werewolves to the zombies and using their skins for parchment. What kind of monster was he?

  “They’ll pick up on it eventually,” Raoul responded. “If you drone too many of them,” he said thoughtfully, “they’ll notice they’ve gone passive. If only…”

  “If only what?” Marvin looked up, his dark eyes alert.

  “If only we could combine forces with the other inmates in the park; we outnumber Conrad’s people, after all.”

  “Who needs them?” Marvin said contemptuously. “Werewolves are untamed, and the zombies are so far gone, they’re useless.”

  “Animals can be trained,” Raoul retorted.

  “Marissa’s training all the animals we’re going to need. Who cares about the others anyway? Once we drone the staff, we’ll have an army of allies. It will be the eighties all over again.” Marvin smirked. “Either way, we are out of here tonight. After I take care of that hunchback.”

  “Who, Igor? I think he’s cute.” Sylvie tittered.

  “You would,” Marvin sneered.

  “Anyway, we signed that stupid contract with him,” Sylvie said hotly. “In blood.”

  “Who cares?” Marvin said. “The drones will unlock the gates. We’ll slip out after the show.”

  “Too dangerous,” Sylvie whispered.

  “So, what are they going to do? Kill us? Last week, he threatened to feed us to the zombies.” Marvin laughed as he walked toward the door. “Then he can add flesh-eating
zombie vampires to his circus.”

  “Where will you go?” she asked.

  “We’re heading to the hills southwest of here late tonight. We’ll hide there until the sun sets tomorrow and then head west. We’ve picked two of the drones as slaves…and nourishment.”

  “That’s one for each of you. Not enough for survival if we go.”

  “Come with us. Pick a drone of your own, someone with the lay of the land.”

  Raoul became thoughtful. He wasn’t comfortable here. He gave up one prison for another. With the right drone, they would find others. They could feed off the community. China, he thought with rising excitement. A lot of people in China hadn’t been exposed to their music. They may have a shot at something new in a frontier town, away from the tired community here.

  Sylvie looked at Raoul. “This place is evil, pure evil. We have to get out of here.” It seemed she had the same idea.

  Raoul stared toward the distant mountain range. His brain began to percolate.