Monsterland (2 page)

“Ah…” Carter said looking back at the television set. “Your hero.” He turned the sound up. Vincent Conrad was being interviewed on the news. Wyatt loved him.

Wyatt expertly tossed the crumpled paper into a metal trash can decorated with the Joker from Batman. It was a recent reject from his room. He didn’t want it up there anymore. He had thrown out most of the junk he’d taken with him from LA—kid’s stuff, action figures, his wolf head. He had other interests now.

Carter nodded with appreciation. “Nothing but net.”

Wyatt shrugged, his face downcast. “Why don’t you like Conrad? At least he’s trying to do something to help get this country out of its depression.”

Carter studied Vincent’s face on the set without answering. He was happy to discuss anything with Wyatt. The doctor could be anywhere from fifty to eighty. His dun-colored hair was combed straight back from his high, white forehead. He had deep-set dark eyes, a long, thin nose, and a slash of a mouth. His narrow face looked right at the camera without any trace of warmth or humor. Carter considered his stepson’s serious face. Carter said, “The answer is not camouflaging the problems and making a game out of it.”

“It’s a solution. I don’t see anything else working.”

That was true. Carter frowned. Washington was deadlocked on whether these new species had rights and should be treated equally with other citizens. Either way, the world had changed drastically and wasn’t prepared to handle the new developments. There was trouble everywhere. The world economy was being held together with duct tape. The only thing world leaders seemed to agree on was Dr. Vincent Conrad. Vincent Conrad appeared out of nowhere with a plan, and all the governments grabbed his idea with eager hands. Carter turned back to the television. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with Wyatt about it anymore. Wyatt was smart, had gone to the best schools in LA when his parents were together. If not for the divorce, he’d probably be headed for an Ivy League school this fall. He knew Wyatt had a hard time fitting in the dumpy, little town. It was a close-knit community that didn’t particularly welcome newcomers, but Gracie landed a teaching job here, and so they had relocated. He admired Wyatt for never complaining. The kid had made the best of it, finding friends with a fringe group, the ones that were just a little off. He wished the boy wouldn’t back off so quickly, but wasn’t quite sure how to teach him. Carter never had kids, and becoming father to two nearly grown boys wasn’t so easy for him either. It wasn’t like there was a handbook on this stuff, he thought, morosely turning his attention back to the television.

The program was a weekly magazine show on a major network. Vincent Conrad was seated opposite Joe Myers, the main anchor of the national evening news and the host of the program. Joe Myers had a halo of white hair, with a chiseled, tan visage. His shoulders were as wide as his career. He
was the captain of his ship, commanding the newsroom with the same courage and bravery as a warship. Integrity dripped from him.

“That was some offering on Wall Street today. You made history, opening at $503 per share, and closing with the bell up $92 from there.”

Dr. Vincent Conrad inclined his moody head. He was thin to the point of emaciation; his skin so pale, he appeared a sallow yellow. His voice reflected his Moldavian roots, the tiny country sandwiched in the Carpathian Mountains, where it was reported he descended from royalty.

Joe Myers continued. “You came to this country with two hundred dollars in your pocket.”

“Two hundred dollars, and a pocketful of dreams,” Vincent said with an oily smile.

“Yet you transformed that into one of the largest fortunes in the world.”

“I have been blessed,” Vincent said calmly with his Eastern European accent.

“Care to elaborate, Dr. Conrad?”

“Only in America can a poor, homeless boy find employment and work his way up the ladder of success.”

“A homeless boy with a PhD in chemical engineering, as well as a medical degree.” Joe smiled, revealing a mouthful of very white teeth.

“I had to retake my boards and start completely over in America, from the ground up.”

Wyatt turned to watch his stepfather’s frown. “He’s the American dream.”

Carter made a face, but didn’t reply. They turned back to the program.

“Come now, Dr. Conrad, you’ve personified the American dream,” the newscaster said.

Wyatt nodded in both agreement and satisfaction.

“I’ve merely taken the fine opportunities laid at my feet and worked them to my best advantage.” Vincent looked thoughtful and then his ego took over. “Not many could do what I have done. I am relentless when I desire something. My natural gas facilities have afforded me the pursuit of my real dream, that of medical breakthroughs in the field of communicable diseases.”

“So, from communicable diseases, explain to me the leap to your theme park, which is more of an American nightmare than an American dream.”

Vincent smiled. “Just so.” He crossed his long, skinny legs, resting his thin wrist on the knob of his bony knee. “The park was a solution to the problem that came from the deep steppes of Asia. As you know, the cataclysmic explosion in central Asia released a toxic gas that began the pandemic.”

Myers looked directly at the camera. “We still can’t explain the catastrophe that sent a shock wave that scorched the earth throughout Asia, flattening buildings and forests for hundreds of miles. The seismic wave was picked up all the way in Washington DC.”

Vincent smiled. “Some say it was extraterrestrials. A sonic boom, perhaps?”

Myers reflected. “It mimicked the explosion of June 1908, when something exploded high above the atmosphere over Siberia with the same strength as one thousand atomic bombs. It destroyed the tundra. Most scientists agree it was a fragment of a comet.”

Vincent shook his head. “However, no virus was recorded after that explosion, contrary to the one three years ago. Last
year, the combined world governments asked all major corporations to work on solutions to containing the…the problem.”

“You are, of course, referring to the victims who caught the virus. Everybody knows that the virus first appeared two years ago. It infected pockets of the population, spreading worldwide within four weeks, creating a pandemic that was brought under control through containment. They have isolated the victims in sectioned-off campuses in the wilderness, until you decided to enclose them in your theme park. Why use plague victims?”

Vincent grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellowed teeth. “I prefer to call them zombies.”

“We don’t like to refer to them that way. The politically correct term is
vitality challenged
.”

“You can call them anything you like,” Vincent said with a leer. “I like to call those flesh-eating catatonic creatures zombies.”

“That sounds a bit extreme.” Joe shook his head.

Vincent leaned forward, his face intense. This was a subject he was passionate about—he spoke urgently as if proving his point, and his voice rose. “The disease is responsible, not I. Once their minds are infected, they can no longer control the primal urge to eat. Their single-minded determination and lack of coherency make it impossible for them to be at large with the general population. They are a danger to themselves as well as everyone else. What would you have the government do? Kill them?”

“Of course not,” Myers said, placating him. “Keeping them isolated has kept the spread of the disease under control. Don’t you think it’s a risky exposure?”

“Nonsense. No one enters my zombie suburb without protective gear. My labs are working on a cure, dear man.”
Vincent inclined his saturnine head graciously. “I intend to see the eradication of the virus within five years.”

“That is, if it doesn’t spread. You’ll lose a great portion of your theme park, Dr. Conrad.”

“I think we have enough to keep people entertained. With my discovery of werewolves in the Everglades—”

“That was a big story,” Joe said. “Broken by KNAB news, our own Burton Wasserman first reported that story two years ago.”

“I was searching for Bigfoot. I do enjoy oddities.” He laughed. “I produced a documentary, and, while we were shooting, the film crew happened upon a huge colony of werewolves. Seems they had been there forever.”

“An amazing discovery. It earned you the Darwin Discovery Prize.”

“Exactly!” Vincent clapped his hands, sitting up straight. “What an honor.”

“And the vampires?”

“Everybody knows the vamps have been around us for years,” Vincent sniffed. “It was natural to enclose them in a theme park to keep them safe. They are virtually extinct.”

“Why not let them just die out. I mean, how many are there left?” Joe raised a white eyebrow in disbelief.

“Twenty-six or so, that we know of, and they are all living in my theme park. We can’t let them disappear.”

“Sounds like you have a mission.”

Vincent nodded gravely. “We have a duty to keep them safe.”

“Why?” Joe asked.

“To study, of course. So we understand what makes them crave blood.”

Joe sighed dramatically. “I think, doctor, that you invite risk by perpetuating their unholy lifestyle.”

“Your own government has enlisted my help.”

“I thought you had been naturalized a US citizen.”

“I am a citizen of the world. I intend to grab the problems deviling our times…” He made a fist, his face a snarl. “And squeeze them into submission. With answers, of course,” he added.

“So simple, yet so profound.”

“I know!” Vincent cooed.

“It does feel a bit like exploitation.” Joe was clearly troubled.

Vincent held up his hand using his fingers to make a point. “Number one, the creatures are contained. Number two, I’ve created a use for their skills; they were languishing in those prisons.”

“Containment camps,” Joe insisted.

“They were prisons and these people—”

“People?” Joe said shocked.

“So then, Joe,” Vincent said silkily, “define people. What makes a human, human?”

Joe sat back in silence, studying his notes, dumbfounded.

“These
people
are being punished for being different. It’s morally wrong to kill them. They are victims, not villains. They do what they are driven to do to survive, nothing more. There is no diabolical plan. They exist, we exist—we must learn to live together. We need to unite the world and come up with simple answers that will deal with it in the same way. We need conformity to keep the world safe. In my parks, they are taken care of, and, more importantly, they are safe and happy.”

“Safe?”

“Yes, safe from us. We are just as much a plague to them as they are to us.”

Joe Myers leaned closer, his face set. “But is it safe for us?”

Vincent sat back, his face beaming. “Of course. I have everything under control, regulated.”

“Nothing is foolproof.”

“Let me assure you, Joe.” Vincent laughed condescendingly. “I have put together a crack team to not only run my parks, but to control the inhabitants. Monsterland will be a gateway to the future of many different world issues, leading the way to solutions.”

“Those are mighty big aspirations,” Joe said simply.

The room went silent, Vincent’s eyes blazed with an inner fire, his lips thinned, and he replied quietly, “I think I am up to the task.”

“Seven parks on six continents, all opening on the same day. Those are some big shoes.”

“We cannot be selfish here. China, Australia, Brazil, France, South Africa, and Egypt have agreed to host the parks. The plague is a world problem, and we are determined to band together to overcome its insidious encroachment. While werewolves are indigenous to North America, the last of the vampires can be found in all countries. The problems they bring affect us all globally. Monsterland will save the planet, and Copper Valley is ground zero in the states for the parks. How we handle the different species will determine how the world moves forward in the coming decades.”

“All right, then.” Joe sighed. “If you could sum up your parks in one statement, what would you say?”

The camera centered on Vincent’s face. He took a deep breath, looked straight into the lens, and stated, “Monsterland is dedicated to the nightmares that have created this world. They have kept us frozen in fear and unable to move forward
as a society. Only when we are no longer afraid do we truly begin to live.”

“I can’t take it anymore,” Carter said in disgust as he turned off the TV. “That guy’s a parasite.”

“What are you talking about?” Wyatt demanded. “The nation had just about shut down. He single-handedly revitalized the country. Monsterland will reignite the economy. It will save the world.”

“Yeah, a regular Disneyland.”

“What do you have against Monsterland?” Wyatt asked.

Carter didn’t answer him; he looked down and ruffled Wyatt’s head affectionately. Wyatt pulled away. “Never mind that. Let’s talk about something really important. What happened with Josh?”

Wyatt struggled for a moment and then began. “Yeah, Josh. He’s the monster.”

“Werewolf, vampire, or zombie?”

“Ah,” Wyatt acknowledged, looking at Carter to see if he was mocking him. Satisfied that Carter was indeed interested, he continued. “The age-old question of monster superiority. Is he indestructible like a werewolf?” Wyatt stood, warming to his subject. “Or perhaps cunning as a vampire? No…he may have the coveted single-mindedness of a zombie—”

“Can’t,” Carter interrupted. “Minds are shot. Zombies got nothing up there.”

“So you think. I have my own theory about that, but my little brother may be lacking intelligence altogether. No, Josh is a garden-variety monster. No imagination, no style, no—”

“Enough. Skip the narrative.” Carter held up a hand. “Just tell me what he did.”

“Forget about it, Carter.” Wyatt stood, brushing him off.

Carter touched his arm. “No, really. What’d he do? Maybe I can help.”

Wyatt looked at him skeptically. Carter raised his eyebrows. “You never know until you try.”

Wyatt sighed and then sat down again, his voice low. “He came up to me as we were leaving school. I was talking to Jade. You know—”