Monsterland

by Michael Okon

  The tunnel abruptly ended, opening to a windowless platform suspended over the park. Monsterland was spread below them in all its drab and dingy glory, a marvel of every nightmare a person could imagine.

  Wyatt leaned over the railing, and the impact of the size of the park hit him. It was the biggest thing he’d ever seen.

  “This is incredible,” Melvin screamed with excitement.

  Below them, an enormous wrought iron sign welcomed the guests to the old town square, a parody of Main Street, USA.

  “Monsterland—Enter at Your Own Risk.” Sean read the tortured metal letters. He turned to Wyatt. “I love it here. This place kills me.”

  Melvin howled with laughter, repeating, “This place kills me. You are too funny, dude.”

  Wyatt didn’t answer; he was busy taking in the recreated city. Instead of pastel buildings made with solid red bricks like in many of the theme parks of his youth, Monsterland was filled with dilapidated warehouses covered with graffiti. Desolate storefronts and dark alleyways with overflowing trash cans dotted the streets. A mist rose off the stained cobblestones. Many of the windows sported giant spider webs of cracked glass; doors hung drunkenly, the rooflines appeared uneven and patched. Here and there, the streets showed chalk outlines, as if police were examining multiple murders and had abandoned them mid-investigation.

  It was as lonely and bleak as the end of the world.

  The village was divided into three paths, each labeled with an imaginative sign.

  “Blood Boulevard.” Sean pointed to the first one, shouting out the name with glee.

  Wyatt’s eyes found the sign Plague Path. He knew instinctively where that would end. It had to be the road to Zombieville. He looked down at the map to confirm the information.

  An opaque glass dome loomed over one of the attractions. Wyatt wasn’t sure which one it covered until he saw part of the sign made from hewn timber. Even though he couldn’t read the words to the attraction, he guessed it was the Werewolf River Run. It doesn’t take an Einstein to figure it out, he thought. After all, it was located at the end of the street called Werewolf Way.

  Huge blowers kept the air circulating in the heat, leaving the temperature at a steady seventy-five degrees. Wyatt surmised that it kept the flesh and blood in the attractions from rotting quickly in the desert heat. Antique street lamps gave off weak puddles of light, despite the giant hidden floodlights overhead. The halogen lights bathed the entire park in a surreal tone. Still, a miasma hung over the area like an extra purple layer of atmosphere.

  Melvin took out his cell to make a video of the teeming crowd. He saw that Sean was busy recording as well. Piped-in music played on an audio system, sounding like soothing white noise. A strange choice, Wyatt thought. Why weren’t they playing rock music to amp up the ambiance?

  He held onto the side of the balcony to peer at the mass of patrons moving like a swollen river. The babble of hundreds of excited voices rose up and would have drowned out the music anyway, Wyatt realized.

  “Look!” Sean pointed at vendors in garish costumes walking the streets with black and red balloons shaped like droplets of blood. There were kiosks with masks, toy weapons, T-shirts, but not a single cart with food. Wyatt saw that the streets were not desolate as he thought, but filled with ubiquitous, small boutique stores stocked with more products to purchase. A colossal, dark glass wall lined one whole side. It read “Commissary.” Wyatt knew it opened in intervals, so people could go in to eat. It was sealed after it filled so that odors couldn’t get out. No food was permitted in the park. The “acts” were fed regulated food and not allowed anything else.

  His phone pinged with several messages. He looked at them. Jade asked for them to join their group on the line at the Werewolf River Run. Her text complained that they had a two-hour wait. Howard Drucker still hadn’t told him where he was.

  “The Werewolf River Run,” Melvin said reverently, his eyes on the massive dome.

  “I want to do Zombieville, right, Wy? Don’t you want to see the zombies first?”

  Wyatt gripped the railing, feeling small, insignificant next to the vastness of the park. How had they built this so quickly and without anyone realizing the scope of the whole thing? He ran to the other side of the balcony.

  Squeezed into the northwest quadrant, Wyatt saw the outline of Vincent’s haunted hotel, a resort that hadn’t been finished in time for the opening. It was an old Victorian mansion on top of a hill with four copper turrets surrounded by an ornate black metal fence that glistened in the moonlight. Vincent’s flag, a black pennant with the red Monsterland logo, flew from the tallest tower. He could see construction vehicles parked around the fenced off property.

  He had read an article about a cave attraction that was due to open with Phase 2 next spring. It was said to run underneath the entire theme park with an underground roller coaster. Wyatt could only imagine what monsters Vincent had up his sleeve for that one.

  Wyatt’s phone buzzed again. This time Jade texted a message saying Nolan was looking for him. He stared down at the swirling mass of people and realized he’d never be able to find anyone. He sent a mass text to all his friends to look for the mezzanine.

  Wyatt searched the park grounds. The people swarmed the broken cobbled streets. He noticed long lines at every attraction that spilled out into the Town Square. Some queues seemed to stretch all the way into the recesses of the park. He squinted, trying to find Nolan in the throngs of people. Nolan emerged from the crowd, jogging over toward the balcony. His face was red, and he was breathless.

  “Come on down; we’ve been waiting for you!” he shouted. “Didn’t you get our text?”

  “Where’s everybody?” asked Wyatt.

  Nolan shrugged. “Who cares? Jade and I are in the queue for the Werewolf River Run. You can use that special pass to get us in the VIP line.”

  Wyatt fiddled with the black rubber band on his wrist.

  “Where’s the escalator?” Sean searched the landing.

  “I don’t see a way to get down,” Melvin called as he ran ahead.

  Wyatt eyed thick stainless steel poles that were planted every thirty feet. “There’s no way down.” He reached out to touch the smooth metal. “Except for these.”

  “No way!” Sean lifted himself onto the railing. “I love this place. Incoming!” he shouted, wrapping his arms around the pole and sliding to the bottom.

  Wyatt cursed and then hefted himself over the rail, his palms heating under the friction as he slid down the tall pole. He heard Melvin screeching from the next pole.

  Melvin had a messy landing. He turned to Nolan and demanded, “Which way is it?”

  Nolan laughed. “That way, you freak.” He pointed down a winding path.

  Wyatt landed at the base. Sean waited until Wyatt’s feet touched the concrete before he raced off, following the painted signs indicating the way to the werewolf flume ride. Wyatt stood close to the metal pole, the crowd closing in on him. The line had grown even longer, eager people talking excitedly about the attractions.

  Nolan impatiently pulled his arm. “Come on. Jade’s waiting for us.”

  They dodged strolling people, running on the uneven cobbles. Melvin disappeared around a bend, and the other three boys followed. Wyatt walked alongside Nolan, who kept the pace brisk. People in Halloween-like costumes roamed the streets, laughing like it was Fat Tuesday in New Orleans. The only things missing were food and drinks.

  It was a maze of rutted paths, structures squeezed together from different centuries as if they were plopped down by giant hands. Wyatt noticed the buildings were not abandoned. Sagging wrought iron balconies sported women dressed like a collection of vampires and zombies in different outfits spanning the centuries, from ancient Rome to Tudor times; even twentieth-century flappers were included in the display. It was a strange assortment that jarred the nerves.

  Wyatt looked at the merchandise crammed in the windows, hawkers standing outside, their zombie makeup running fr
om the heat of the bright lights overhead.

  It was a kaleidoscope of sounds and colors, as if they rode a merry-go-round at breakneck speed. Guards stood every few feet, their emotionless faces revealing nothing. While they did seem robotic, Wyatt had a sense of peace knowing they were there.

  Sean ran toward a large glass case that displayed a four-foot-long handle with a polished silver axe at the top.

  Melvin skidded to a stop to admire it. “Look at that!” He was so excited he couldn’t catch his breath.

  “Calm down before you hyperventilate.” Wyatt could see they had them installed at the end of every building.

  Melvin observed with awe. “He’s thought of everything. A silver axe can take out a vampire, zombie, or werewolf.”

  “Or a human,” Wyatt added.

  “Why would you even say that?” Nolan snapped.

  “Take a picture of me.” Melvin mugged a pose by the axe.

  “Are you twelve?” Wyatt asked, thinking of Jade waiting at the end of the line. Melvin could be such a baby.

  Melvin shook his head, “I’m outta here.” He took off in a jog down Werewolf Way.

  Wyatt turned his attention to the passing scenery as they continued their trek.

  The buildings thinned, turning into a wide lane with dense brush intruding. City sounds receded, drowned out by birdcalls and the piped-in sound of banjos playing. Wyatt saw nothing beyond the line of eager people waiting like a giant anaconda stretching along the winding road.

  Soon the concrete was replaced by a dirt path. To the right, he saw a giant glass dome with multifaceted windows.

  They slowed their progress, stopping when they noticed a muted figure of a man skitter across the glass.

  “Did you see that?” Sean gasped.

  “What?” Wyatt asked.

  “Something was in there,” Sean said, pointing to the dome.

  “It’s the werewolves; they’re isolated behind the glass.” Nolan pulled a map from his back pocket. “See that big tube?” He pointed to a thick pipe that wrapped around the side of the dome. “It’s a feeding chute. There’s a silo back there filled with blood and guts. It goes directly into the zombie town.”

  “Wow.” Sean craned his neck to look at the long pipe.

  They all traced the destination of the pipe to find it penetrating an enormous stone wall at the north end of the park. They could make out the armored mesh the employees wore as they walked around the exhibit.

  “Wy!” Sean jumped up, pointing. “The zombies, bro. They’re right behind that wall.”

  Wyatt looked at the fortress longingly and then back to where Jade waited for them. He shook his head. “We have all night. Let’s go on the River Run.”

  “You still have that invitation thing?” Nolan asked.

  Wyatt nodded.

  “I want to see it.”

  Wyatt took the folded square, handing it to Nolan.

  “I bet you it’s real skin,” Nolan said with admiration.

  Wyatt dropped it into Nolan’s eager hands.

  “Can’t be.” He shook his head. “It’s probably synthetic.” Wyatt looked at the uneven texture.

  “Skin!” Sean shouted. “Ew, look, hair.”

  They all peered closer at the invitation. The parchment’s ragged border ended in a delicate fray. Wyatt touched it, feeling the coarse bristle of hair. “You keep it.” He shoved it to Nolan. “It’s probably a pig skin.”

  “Well, I love me some pig skins.” Nolan laughed. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.” Nolan bunched it up to put it in his pocket.

  “Where’s Jade?” Wyatt asked, changing the subject. He wanted to find a place to wash his hands. They itched where they’d touched the fur. He felt disoriented. Nothing made sense in the park.

  He had been to loads of theme parks and county fairs. This place was set up as though the planners threw down a bunch of swerved lines and named them as streets. And tickets to those parks were made from paper, plain old paper. Wyatt glanced back at the central area of the park, feeling uneasy he was being led somewhere he shouldn’t be going.

  “Creepy, right?”

  Wyatt jumped when Nolan came too close behind him. He moved away. He watched his brother run down the lane, screaming, “Come on, Wy!”

  Nolan laughed. “Yeah, come on, Wy.”

  He studied Nolan, wondering why he was being so nice.

  “Jade wasn’t happy about being left behind. She’s a real scaredy-cat.”

  It was full-on night now—the moon hung low in the sky, its round face mocking them. The street lamps were flickering eerily, just enough to make Wyatt’s skin crawl. The bright light cast an odd glow on people’s features so that their eyes disappeared into the shadows of their faces. He thought about Jade waiting in that line and picked up his pace.

  Wyatt let Nolan propel him through the crowd, knowing Jade would be at the destination.

  Jade stood in the middle of a long maze held in place by metal stanchions. Nolan screamed her name while he waved his arm. She squeezed past the tightly packed people to run to them.

  “How do you like it?” she asked, her face scrunched, indicating she wasn’t thrilled.

  Wyatt pursed his lips, and something passed between him and Jade. He felt her small hand touch his fingers and squeeze them gently. Wyatt looked nervously to see if Nolan noticed, but the jock was preoccupied searching for the entrance to the ride.

  Nolan interrupted him. “Look, you can say Jade is Melvin’s guest, and I’ll go as yours. Otherwise, we’re going to have to wait a couple of hours to get on this.” He looked around. “Where is that idiot?”

  “I’m not going down there, it’s dark. You go be Melvin’s guest,” Jade said.

  Wyatt scanned the crowd. “I don’t see him. Sean, let him walk next to you.”

  Wyatt took Jade by the arm and started walking briskly toward the entrance of the ride.

  Nolan caught up quickly, matching their strides, so they marched shoulder to shoulder until the path abruptly stopped at the edge of a cove with a waist-high metal gate preventing them from moving further.

  Wyatt’s jaw dropped when he saw the entire waterway spread out before him. Low hanging branches grazed the iridescent water. Strategically placed spotlights lit up an array of exotically colored flowers that filled the area with perfume.

  Jade sucked in her breath, “It’s beautiful.”

  A bird cawed loudly, but for the life of him, Wyatt couldn’t find the source of the sound.

  “Dudes!”

  They heard Melvin’s voice from across the water. He was waving wildly from a small mound of dirt on the other end of a rickety suspended bridge. “You have to cross the bridge! It’s crazy!!” he screamed.

  They stared with dawning horror at a decrepit bridge that swung precariously over the lagoon. Wyatt looked down and saw something dark splash under the surface of the cloudy water.

  Melvin yelled, “C’mon, hurry! What, are you afraid there’s a creature like from the Black Lagoon?” He laughed at his joke.

  “Maybe it’s the Loch Ness Monster,” Sean said in a rush.

  Jade shivered uncontrollably. “That looks dangerous.”

  Wyatt gulped and wondered why they couldn’t get on the boat right there. After all, he did have a Presidential Pass.

  “Show me your VIP bracelets,” a nasal-voiced attendant demanded. A short, pudgy woman came out of nowhere, startling them. Wyatt raised his arm, showing her the black rubber band. She punched in a code on a keypad, and they heard the pneumatic hiss of a gate being lifted.

  To get to the ride, they realized they had to form a single line to cross the decaying bridge that led to the actual entrance of the ride.

  “Me first!” screamed Sean, pushing Wyatt out of the way to run across the flimsy looking bridge. It swayed with each step as if the ropes were made of elastic.

  Just looking at the narrow slats held together with fragile hemp over the murky water made Wyatt nervous.

  “I�
��m not going on that thing,” Jade said, her arms folded across her chest.

  “Oh, yes you are,” Nolan said, taking her hand and striding across the rickety bridge.

  Wyatt watched them cross, his eyes open wide. The attendant said, “I have to close this gate. You better go.”

  Taking a deep breath, he placed one foot on the slats of the wood that separated him from the water. Fingers gripping the hemp tightly, he moved across.

  Instead of lifting his feet, he slid slowly, inching his way to the other side. His gullet met the back of his throat in fear. If the bridge was just the beginning of the ride, he wondered how the werewolves were going to top this.

  They saw Melvin eagerly waiting underneath a large grass-topped hut that was made with green bamboo. A uniformed attendant stood next to him.

  Seven passenger boats pulled up on the lee side of their little island, loading the awaiting guests. The flat-bottom crafts were painted bright green with yellow canopies fringed along the top.

  “That looks charming,” Jade said.

  “Looks are deceiving.” Melvin turned to face them. He was chewing something.

  “What are you eating?” Wyatt hissed.

  “Kickers Kandy Bar.” Melvin’s teeth were covered with melting marshmallow, and his breath smelled of chocolate.

  “You can’t eat here.”

  “Stop being an old lady. They feed the werewolves until they’re in a stupor. They probably drug them too.”

  “You don’t know that,” Wyatt responded

  “Of course he does. He’d be stupid not to. Besides, they eat meat. They don’t care about chocolate,” Nolan told him, as if he knew everything there was to know.

  The attendant turned to look suspiciously at the group, who clammed up. “Just get in the boat,” Melvin whispered.

  The boat dipped into the swampy water as they entered. The attendant helped Jade to the last row of seats on the bobbing craft, directing Wyatt to follow her. Nolan cursed but entered the middle row with Sean. Jade paused, looking back at Wyatt, and then moved only halfway to the end, so that she was squeezed up against him.