Monsterland

by Michael Phillip Cash

  Carter held up the gun. “You keep saying that, Doctor. Nothing could be further from the truth. It’s over, Conrad. Word will get out through people’s cells.”

  Vincent laughed, flicking on a console. “It already has. It’s all over the Internet.” 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. Thousands were dead—every country had lost leadership. The world 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.”

  “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,” he continued reasonably. “Who needed McAdams anyway? He was a liberal, 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?”

  “I’ve called off the air force now that Anthony is dead, and the new chairman of the joint chiefs has agreed to my wait-and-see approach.”

  “Excellent, excellent. I couldn’t ask for a more perfect partner.” Vincent was all oily charm.

  Vincent 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 Chinese have been tampering with our computers, raiding and stealing information. A sort of cyber terrorism. Well, with the Chinese envoy assassinating the president, as well as every other diplomat attending our parks, it gives President Owens very little choice than to shut them down. The invasion of China’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 Chinese envoy was murdered. 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 China, 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 incredulously, with dawning horror.

  “A coup d’etat,” Vincent said with a smile, hanging up on the president.

  Vincent became thoughtful and said, “I used to catch wild pigs when I was a boy. Do you know how to catch wild pigs, Carter?”

  “What?” Carter asked.

  Vincent looked at Carter. He perched his hip causally on one of the desks. “You catch wild pigs by finding a nice clearing in the woods. You sprinkle corn on the ground. The pigs find it and return every day to eat the food.” He folded his hands and then pressed his two index fingers together. He continued. “When they are used to coming every day, you put a fence down one side of the place where they are grazing on the corn. In the beginning, they are wary of the fence, but eventually, they get used to the fence. They begin to eat the corn again, and you put up another side of fence. They get used to that and start to eat again. You continue until you have all four sides of the fence up with a gate in the last side. Don’t you understand?” he asked softly.

  “You see, the pigs get used to the free corn and start to come through the gate to eat that corn again. All you have to do is slam the gate on them to catch the whole herd.” He stood, an unholy light in his eyes.

  “Suddenly the wild pigs have lost their freedom. They run around and around inside the fence, but they are caught. Soon they go back to eating the free corn. They are so used to it that they have forgotten how to forage in the woods for themselves, so they accept their captivity. Monsterland is free corn. We have just captured the entire world.” He started to laugh then. Vincent threw his head back, and the echoes of his laughter bounced off the impregnable wall of his prison. He paused, looked at Carter and shook his head sadly. “Besides, how else were we to invade China? They’ve been playing with your Internet for years. It’s time to have the governments run by more capable hands.”

  “Monsterland?”

  “Oh, my interest in Monsterland was real. We will have theme parks all over the world. It is where we will put troublemakers. More inventive than prison, don’t you think? A zombie police force.”

  “But the wolves…”

  “A means to an end. A careless guard, a lost key, nature takes its course.”

  “They have the run of the park.”

  “It appears so…but looks are deceiving.”

  “But what about the vampires?”

  “Nobody cares about them. They are a dying breed. It’s the zombies that are valuable. No more expensive prisons. Put malcontents in with the plague victims—again, let nature take its course and poof…problem solved.”

  “What are you getting for all this?” Carter gestured to the empty room.

  “Power. I am the puppeteer. Nate Owens will follow my directions. You could say we’ve got a lot in common.”

  “You’re sick,” Carter said disgustedly.

  “I’ve been called worse.” Vincent sniffed. “Now I think it’s time for you to take your place in your new home.”

  He pressed a button. Carter raised the shotgun.

  “I don’t think so, Officer White.” Vincent drew, a small revolver sliding out from his wrist. He shot once, winging Carter, who dropped his shotgun.

  Carter recoiled, grabbing his shoulder. Two huge men entered the room. They were wearing a uniform with a new logo that had an American flag above it. It said Federation Forces. “You thought I was alone,” Vincent spat. “I was never alone. You are outnumbered. Long live the new federation!” He punched his fist in the air. “My federation.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carter’s veins bulged as he shouted.

  “I have made a worldwide alliance to stop those pesky countries from interfering. Like the euro and one currency, so shall we all be one nation.”

  “The single European currency didn’t work out so well.”

  “I’ll be the judge of what works and what doesn’t succeed, Officer White.” A group filed into the room, their faces wooden. “Time to end this,” Vincent said.

  Carter watched in stupefaction as they took seats.

  He heard Vincent order. “Kill the wolves.”

  One of the men pressed a series of buttons. A high-pitched buzz filled the park. On the screen, the wolves started to run in circles. Their howls penetrated the thick building. The lights on their collars changed from green to red.

  “
Watch…watch…watch…” Vincent said eagerly. “We implanted transistors in their collars, only mine have an added kick,” he ended on a note of glee.

  The earsplitting noise filled the park. The wolves howled, their faces aimed at the moon.

  “Here it comes,” Vincent said with eager anticipation.

  One by one, the wolves rolled and then arced up, their heads exploding in a spectacular eruption.

  “Holy shit,” Carter whispered.

  “No, genius. Pure genius,” Vincent responded. “Give him to the zombies. Wait, I think I want to watch.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Raoul’s hand rested on Howard’s shoulder. To someone who didn’t know any better, it would appear they were friends. The passageway grew narrower, the sounds from outside louder.

  “If we can get past security, there is a way out of here behind the wolf pens.”

  Marissa pointed upward and continued. “A drone told me about a feeding pipeline that runs from the back of a supply silo over here.” There was a dark ominous tower behind the dome of the Werewolf River Run. Marissa pointed to a large circular tube that carried food from a special tank toward Zombieville. “It’s filled with all kinds of blood and guts,” she told them.

  Howard swallowed convulsively. He looked at Keisha, trying to make eye contact, but she was as catatonic as the guards.

  Distant screams echoed in the thick air. Raoul’s eyes searched the dark streets for signs of the wolves, but he couldn’t see any.

  “Do you think the wolves got out of the park?”

  “Doubtful,” he replied. “They are too busy gorging themselves on human flesh. Tonight was a smorgasbord for them.”

  “A bacchanalian feast.” Marissa slithered out, drawn to a shiny trail of blood on the concrete. She crouched down and wiped her finger through the small puddle. Placing it on her lips, she sucked. “That’s vampire blood,” she stated.

  “They didn’t stand a chance once the werewolves got out. They are probably all ripped to shreds.”

  “What?” Howard whispered, the old debate supplanting fear in his head. “What of their superior night vision, dexterity, and intelligence?”

  “Myths, my little friend. All myths. Just the junk we churned out in our old PR machine to make us more glamorous.” He draped his arm around Howard’s shoulders in a warm manner. “We are nothing better than parasites that live off the rejects of society.” He paused. “Except for me, of course.” Raoul considered the supply line. “If we split up—”

  “Don’t even think about it, Raoul,” Marvin said hotly. He had lost his drones in the melee. “The kid knows his way around. Unless you want to give us him, and you wake the girl up?”

  “Oh, I plan on waking her up,” he said with a seductive smile.

  Howard felt Sylvie stiffen next to him. She exhaled in an angry huff.

  “You think she’s prettier than me?” she asked angrily, her eyes watery and hurt. He wasn’t sure if she was speaking to him or Raoul. The older vampire ignored her with a cold stare. Howard shivered.

  Howard looked at Sylvie’s deathly pale skin and filthy pink hair.

  Sylvie saw his glance and patted her hair in the age-old feminine way of fussing.

  He wet his dry lips and considered the most logical way to answer. His brain told him to tell Sylvie that she was more attractive than Keisha. His heart chose this inconvenient time to come to life and twisted painfully when he glanced at Keisha.

  Sylvie watched his face, her own turning a dark purple with rage. Balling her fists, she spun, punching Keisha full in the chest. Keisha went down like a sack of potatoes, rolling face down on the floor.

  There was a tentative howl and a clatter of sharp nails on the empty pavement. Marvin craned his neck out of the passage, saw nothing and moved farther out.

  Howard looked up in astonishment, his breath whistling out of him as a dark shape hurtled from the darkness to land with a growl on Marvin’s chest. They all backed away, watching Marvin wrestle with a werewolf, his cries mixed with fierce growls. Marvin’s teeth gleamed in the moonlight; his own sharp nails gripped the wolf by the heavy scruff of the neck, trying to twist free.

  Marissa jumped on its back, and Howard thought, inanely, that it looked like a werewolf sandwich.

  Raoul grabbed Keisha’s arm and then gripped Howard, pulling them from the tunnel. “Come on, Sylvie!” he ordered.

  “You’re leaving them?” Howard was aghast.

  “I told you I was a care for nothing,” Raoul responded as he pushed them toward the supply tube. “Up you go.” He pushed Howard onto the riveted bars, forcing him to start climbing onto the winding pipe that disappeared around the other side of the dome. He wrapped his arms around the cold metal tube, wondering, with a shudder, what was coursing through it. The liquid vibrated against his fingertips. Howard turned in time to see Marvin’s face being separated from his skull, his dying screams smothered by a fountain of blood. The wolf caught Marissa around the waist, shaking her limp body like a rag doll.

  “Don’t look down,” Raoul ordered.

  “Too late,” Howard whispered. The wolf stood still, watching him intently. A gold pendant dangled from a chain around its powerful neck, and green glass eyes shined back at him. Howard cocked his head. He knew that pendant.

  I guess I was wrong, Howard thought. “Wolf wins,” he said, his voice barely a squeak.

  They climbed up, their bellies hugging the round metal tube. He heard Keisha cursing loudly as if she were coming back to life. Howard smiled—that was the Keisha he knew.

  “What are we doing here?” she complained angrily.

  “Shut up, or I’ll drone you again,” Raoul warned. He sniffed the air, his face alert. “Zombies.”

  “This was supposed to take us out of the park,” Sylvie complained. “It took us to the zombies. I’m scared, Raoul. Let’s go back.”

  Raoul kicked out, his face furious, his razor-sharp teeth feral. “Stop whining, you stupid bitch.” Sylvie grabbed his leg and they both slipped. Raoul reached out, taking hold of Howard’s ankle, so they all descended in a rush onto the black pavement outside Zombieville. Howard heard Keisha yell, “No!” as his head connected painfully with the concrete.

  Keisha leaped down, coming to stand between Howard and Raoul, her stance combative.

  “I know tae kwon do, you blood-sucking creep.”

  “You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” Raoul said seductively, walking toward her.

  Howard’s eyes softened. He wanted to agree, really. He thought that too.

  “Ugh.” Keisha gagged. “Is that the best you can do?” She circled him warily, ready to kick.

  Howard raised himself, shaking his groggy head. His hand was against something soft, his fingers in a puddle of sticky wetness. He turned over to come face-to-face with the open eyes of a guard, his lifeless fingers wrapped around the handle of an axe.

  Howard reached out to grab the axe, but Raoul walked backward, kicking it out of the way, laughing maniacally.

  Raoul growled appreciatively to Keisha, his eyes gleaming. “I’m going to enjoy making a woman out of you.”

  He moved slowly toward her, his eyes slit with passion.

  “No,” Sylvie screamed, picking up a discarded tree limb, swinging it in a wide arc toward Keisha.

  Howard looked around frantically for a weapon. He stood, his hands fisted. Raoul jumped back, the branch grazing him. He fell down, rolling to come up behind Howard, grabbing both his arms in a tight hold, laughing. “I think I like her better, Sylvie. What are you going to do?” He shrugged.

  Sylvie bent in half, her mouth open in a feral scream. Her eyes turned into dark, hot pits of hatred. She moved toward Keisha, using the branch like a javelin.

  “Nothing better than a little cat fight,” Raoul commented. “We’ll flip coins for the winner.”

  Keisha dodged Sylvie with nimble footwork. Sylvie squared off with her, her attention diverted for a minute. They impacted, Keisha’s lon
g legs scissoring upward to smash into Sylvie’s short form. Sylvie twisted to come up into a crouch, using the branch to try and trip Keisha. She swiped at the girl’s feet, but Keisha jumped high, kicking her in the face.

  Raoul winced at the sound of cracking bone. “Ew, that’s got to hurt.”

  Howard struggled uselessly against Raoul’s superior strength. Raising his foot, he brought it down viciously on the vampire’s instep. Raoul reacted by punching him in the face. Howard went down, the lights fading for a minute. The vampire grabbed him by the lapels, shaking him like a rag. A sound cracked the night, and Raoul looked toward the great barrier enclosing Zombieville. It gaped open.

  Shuffling feet filled the silent night, followed by the moans of the plague victims. A group of four made their sluggish way through the half-opened gate toward them.

  They walked like, well, zombies. Howard considered them. They were soft, all squishy—their green skin and stiff, outstretched arms looked surprisingly fragile.

  “One of you better hurry and finish this thing,” Raoul called out placidly, his hands still wrapped around Howard’s neck. He subdued him. “You could take them,” he told Sylvie.

  She ignored him, her balled fist connecting with Keisha’s chin.

  “Stop fighting! They are the enemy!” Howard “screamed, his dazed looked exchanged for sheer horror. He stared at the moving wall of flesh coming their way. What was wrong with the vamps? he wondered frantically. They were stronger, more agile; they had superior intelligence; they had working opposable thumbs, for God’s sake. “Move, damn you,” he shouted to Raoul. “Do something!” Raoul did something then. He placed Howard in front of him to shield him from the approaching zombies.

  Howard twisted. Raoul stood behind him, frozen, his eyes wide with…fear? Raoul was afraid, Howard thought disgustedly. Sylvie fought on, with mindless hatred, her sharp nails aiming for Keisha’s soft skin. They were all going to die. He had to do something. Vamps were fucking useless! Howard scrambled, feeling his pockets for anything a key, a pen, a…pencil.

  Howard gripped the pencil in his fist, turning to Raoul’s frozen face.

  He heard Keisha’s cry of dismay as she slid in a slick of blood, going down on one knee. Reaching out, Howard’s breath stopped in his chest as he took the number-two lead pencil and rammed it directly into Raoul’s exposed chest. “Take this, you blood-sucking parasite!” he yelled, his face a frozen grin from the irony that he was driving a wooden stake into the fiend’s chest.