Monsterland (13 page)

The boat stopped moving. Wyatt noticed there were four other boats bobbing around them. Another man jumped onto the dome, wailing an answering howl, then another. Soon the glass was dotted with creatures, their eyes narrowing, their backs elongating, and Wyatt and his friends
craned their necks around the opaque canopy to observe as silent witnesses as the miserable creatures’ bodies developed four legs, their noses changed into snouts, and their teeth became long, yellow fangs. The green lights on their collars multiplied until it looked like the dome was dotted with alien eyes.

He heard Melvin say, “Whoa!” His voice was filled with wonder.

His own breath had stopped in his chest. Jade’s glorious blue eyes peeked out from behind her hands. She whispered, “This is so wrong. In so many ways it’s…it’s wrong.”

Melvin stood tall, his chest puffed outward, letting loose a loud howl that silenced the wolves. The water lapped, and only their harsh breathing filled the cavern. Melvin called out again, and a cacophony of howls answered him. His face looked ecstatic, and Wyatt shivered.

“Stop, Mel.” Josh pulled at his hand. “You’re too weird, dude. Really.”

Melvin shook him off, pulled out his cell phone and started filming.

Nolan followed suit and then Josh. Wyatt looked around, noticing everyone had their cell phones in their hands. The lights bobbed in the water as if the room was lit by hundreds of candles. The wolves wailed. Wyatt picked up his phone and then shoved it back in his pocket. He thought about recording the experience for a second, then paused, his face warming. Jade was right about this place. He felt ashamed for even wanting to preserve a moment on film of another living thing’s pain, even if it was a monster.

A motor whined, and the striped canopy rolled back like a convertible on a car, giving them a clear view of the snarling wolves overhead. Wyatt heard the sound of
multiple boat engines roaring to life. The attendant yelled, “Hold on!”

They gripped the rails on the seats as the front of the boat lifted half off the water and started racing down a tributary. The water narrowed to a rushing river, the glass coming to surround them like a tube, a handspan above their heads. Claws scratched the glass, nails clicking as long gray shadows ran next to the boats. Jade screamed, her face inches from the window, a wolf the size of a small car racing in tandem with them. His yellowed eyes watched intently, the golden glow eliciting no warmth. The green lights on their collars bobbed along as they chased the boats.

Inhuman wails mixed with menacing growls filled the chamber. Melvin stood, holding onto the metal pole, his face rapt with wonder. Nolan was frozen, his fingers holding the sides of the boat in a death grip. Josh had slid down, his face bleached.

The boat picked up speed, but the creatures kept up the pace; their seven-foot-long bodies and long legs stretched to obscene proportions. Wyatt could hear their impatient panting; he could swear he felt the heat of their breaths on his cheeks.

Ahead, a pinpoint of light teased them. The boat picked up speed, the wind rushing past them, the wolves howling like mad, falling behind as they made their escape.

The teens turned to see the animals slowing, turning to chase after another boat. The boat filled with laughter, even the attendant joined in. “Don’t forget to purchase your photo at the booth on the way out,” he added.

“Photo?” Melvin asked.

“Yeah, of your faces as we went down the first waterfall—59.99 plus tax. Thank you for experiencing Vincent Conrad’s Werewolf River Run.”

Stark LED floodlights blinded them as they emerged from the tunnel, the sounds of the park intruding.

Melvin leaped off the boat onto the dock, his face beaming. “That was ah-mazing!” he crowed. “Wanna buy the photos?”

“Not for 59.99.” Nolan stepped off, putting his hand in front of Wyatt, rudely pulling Jade from the vessel. “I wasn’t that impressed,” he said with cocky self-assurance. Wyatt stiffened and then felt himself deflate. Jade was not his girl. She was with Nolan. He backed away.

Melvin wandered off, pulling out his wallet. “Well, I want them,” he mumbled to no one in particular.

“Are you kidding me? That was intense. You were a wreck,” Josh said to Nolan.

Jade looked longingly at Wyatt as Nolan brushed past them. “Let’s try to find Theo and Keisha,” Nolan said, dismissing them. “Did they answer anybody’s texts?” he demanded impatiently.

C
HAPTER
15

“L
ook, Howard Drucker.”
Keisha pulled Howard into the commissary, losing Theo. “I’m tired of waiting for you to notice me.”

They both jumped as the doors slowly descended, alarms warning the crowd away from the hermetically sealed portal. They turned in silent awe as the heavy metal slid into place, followed by a sucking noise.

Howard spoke as if he hadn’t heard her, his voice filled with curiosity. “It’s a vacuum.”

Keisha wandered to the sealed door, momentarily diverted. Her own love for science overtook her hormones and attraction to Howard. “Nothing gets in or out.” She ran her hands along the smooth surface of the vulcanized seal. “Not any odors.”

She turned, looking at her shorter companion. She considered the gentle slope of his shoulders, the lightly freckled complexion, his total lack of animal attraction, and, yet—she shrugged—she was attracted. Not mildly, not slightly—there was no denying it—she was in total overload of obsession for
this peculiar boy. While she could explain magnetic shifts in the polar ice caps, she couldn’t understand her primal desire for Howard Drucker, but he filled her every waking moment with his keen intellect and sensitive understanding of anything from climate change to the study of chiaroscuro in Renaissance art.

A guard smiled benignly. “Mr. Conrad created this seal especially for the comfort of the inhabitants. Not only the odors, but sound as well.”

Howard nodded sagely. “The mere sound of food would trigger all sorts of responses.”

Keisha agreed, “Like Pavlov’s dogs.”

“Huh?” The guard cocked his head.

“A Russian scientist proved that if you ring a bell every time you feed a dog, it conditions the animal to associate the sound with feeding time,” Keisha informed him.

The guard shook his head. “I don’t think those monsters need no bell.”

“No, you see,” Howard explained patiently, “it was an experiment.” He paused to look at the guard’s glazed eyes. “Oh, forget it.”

Keisha pulled him toward the line that served cafeteria-style food. There were three different sections: a fine-dining restaurant that was cordoned off in readiness for important guests, a casual coffee shop, and, finally, a full cafeteria that served massive volume. The noise level in the hall sputtered and then grew silent. A huge group of men in suits were escorted by uniformed officers toward the expensive restaurant. Vincent Conrad walked with President McAdams, followed by ambassadors, military types, and others in the retinue.

“Wow, President McAdams,” Howard said in awe.

“I wouldn’t mind eating with him,” Keisha said softly. “That would make for some interesting conversation.”

Howard pulled back. “Don’t you want to wait for the others?”

“Do you have to do everything with Wyatt and Melvin, Howard Drucker?” She moved closer to him. “Don’t you ever want to do anything on your own?”

Howard shifted nervously from foot to foot. “We’re hardly alone.” He gestured to the crowds rushing around them. He felt strangely naked here with Keisha. What could she possibly see in him? He winced. Words clogged his throat; he didn’t know what to say. What if he said something dumb—she would hate him. Keisha was beautiful, from the top of her wild hair to the tips of her sandals. She was so smart; she understood Shakespeare like no other student in the class. Howard gulped, sweat dotting his forehead. Something stupid darted through his usually trustworthy brain. He searched that betraying organ for a clue on how to proceed, and, while it knew every mountain and crater on the moon’s surface, it drew a big blank on polite conversation with a pretty girl.

Keisha’s dark eyes surveyed him, a frown on her face. Howard was short, so short that he barely reached her shoulder.

He had a wry wit, but the pithy remarks dried on his parched tongue. The room narrowed to the two of them. His eyes drooped, and he saw Keisha through a strange spangled veil. He watched her eyes spark and then her lips widened as she moved closer to him. She was so close their breaths intermingled, and Howard swore his glasses were fogging up.

He couldn’t stop the next remark in the same way he couldn’t fight the tide or the pull of a full moon. “Don’t you want to see the vampires?” he whispered.

“Are you kidding me?” Keisha hissed with disappointment.

The meal bell rang, and an announcer came on the PA, warning people to throw out their garbage and reminding
them not to take anything into the park. The lights flickered, and the startled crowd gasped in dismay.

“Looks like their electrical system isn’t functioning in coordination with the rest of the facilities.”

Keisha sighed. “I can name another system that’s not functioning in tandem either.”

“Really?” Howard looked around eagerly. “What else have you noticed?”

Keisha groaned loudly, stalking to the entrance that was now sliding open.

“Keisha!” Howard called after her. “I noticed something funny at the escalators as well.”

C
HAPTER
16

J
osh was glued
to a window on the main street of the faux village. “Tattoos! Wanna get one?” Josh asked with wonder. Inside the window, patrons dressed like vampires worked at different stations and on various body parts.

“Yeah, sure, and watch Mom’s head spin like she’s possessed?”

“She’ll never know. Besides, she has one,” Josh persisted.

They both smiled at the thought of their mother’s faded tribal tattoo on the small of her back.

“Yeah, but she ascribes to the rules of do as I say, not as I do. Anyway, Carter’s X-ray vision will see it.”

Josh nodded. “Yeah, Carter. He may find everything, but he’s not our dad. He has no say in what we do, nothing! If I really want a tattoo, I’ll get one, and he can’t do anything about it.” He changed the subject. “Okay, what else do they have here?” He spun to enter the doorway of the next shop. Wyatt followed him into the dark interior. Racks filled with shirts, sweat pants, and hats with the Monsterland logo closed in on them. It was packed so closely together, they had to turn
sideways to meander around the store. Josh held up shirts, laughing.
I Survived Monsterland
, with werewolf claw marks that glowed in the dark. A baby’s onesie had a picture of an infant zombie on it with the words
Feed Me Now
. Wyatt held up a red thermos with an animated cartoon vampire that had a bloody liquid encased by plastic.

Wyatt moved things out of the way to look at the merchandise, faintly annoyed at the commercial bent of the store. This was supposed to be a place for observation, not exploitation.

“See something you like?” The girl had white makeup on her face, with open sores to look like she had the plague. Her fingernails were painted blue, with the telltale white spots of the disease marring the surface. Her hair hung lank, with huge bald spots that were made by latex. Her irises were covered by black contacts, the whites covered with something to make them look bloody.

“No,” Wyatt said simply.

“Don’t you want a sweat shirt?” She held up a thick gray sweatshirt that looked too short in the midriff. It was shoddily made. She laid it across the top of the rack so Wyatt could appreciate the humor of its joke.

“See…” She pointed. “It says
Keep Calm and Monster On
.”

“I see what it says,” Wyatt said shortly. “Whose idea was all this?”

She looked at him oddly. “I don’t know.” She shrugged indifferently. “Who cares? You interested or not?” she asked rudely.

Wyatt shook his head. Josh came running over. “Look at this; isn’t it cool?” He wore a white T-shirt that sported a cartoon and the saying
The Zombies Got Me
with illustrated entrails printed on the shirt.

“Why’d you buy that?” Wyatt asked as they left the store.

“Are you kidding me? I’ll be the first one wearing this.”

Wyatt stopped in the street, his eyes stinging. He stared at the bleak streets, people gawking at the windows, the glazed look of shock. People were paused, filming with their cell phones. Signs pulled at him—buy this, purchase that. Really, what was so special about this place? he thought for a minute. Each of the main attractions were tragic examples of life gone wrong through sickness or disease. Wyatt turned to see a monitor across the way. It was a six-foot screen showing images of the Vampire Village. Pale faces filled the monitor, their dark, sunken eyes vacant. A hunchback danced around four vamps who played various instruments lethargically.

Josh watched the screen transfixed. “I heard about them,” he said to Wyatt.

They made sound rather than music. It filled Wyatt’s head and created a drill behind his eyes. Light hurt, and his chest vibrated with their pulsing melancholy chords that played in monotonous repetition. They were horrible. Their bland faces without a spark of humanity were like watching wax figures. They were no better than zombies, Wyatt thought wildly. He turned suddenly, now looking at a screen broadcasting the River Run. Howling figures clamored across the glass dome, their frantic cries filling the street. People stopped and pointed, watching with eager anticipation for the artificial moon to appear and make the men change into beasts. As expected, the moon rose, pulling the figures into a nightmare. Wyatt spun, looking at the faces enjoying the transformation. Had he looked like that? he thought with disgust. His stomach churned, a seed taking root in his gut, making him close his eyes with horror, not at the beast but at himself.

He hated this place. “It’s…it’s…it’s…”

“It’s amazeballs,” another voice finished. An arm snaked around his shoulders, much like Vincent and the president. Wyatt shrunk under the weight of it. It was Nolan.