Protect All Monsters (18 page)

The image of Angie faded until the mirror was as it should be again.

She hadn’t removed her hands from the glass, and with her weight against it, the mirror flipped around like a secret door. The forward motion took Mandy. Reeling from one event to the next, she tumbled to the other side on all fours. Darkness greeted her. The ground was solid concrete, the walls smooth like the walls in the fitting room. Getting up, she completed three steps before she touched the wall. The recess was narrow. Humid. Stinking of wet fur.

She pounded on the wall. “Can anybody hear me? I’M TRAPPED!”

Hrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Mandy shut her mouth and kept her breath as low as possible.

The deep grumble emanated from yards north of her.

She pressed her body against the wall and remained still. In the coming moments she heard a wet plop and the tearing of a sheet, and felt a warm wind blow across her body. A horrid stench, something noxious and dead, crossed her next. The reek was more humid and stagnant than the corridor itself. Another wet plop and rigid tear, this time more vicious and violent. She imagined duct tape being yanked from a surface many successions over, and this time, the noises were followed by a wolfish shriek. The series of noises occurred again and again, with the addition of the sound of lungs struggling to breathe.

Then more new sounds.

The clink of bones. Ligaments cracking at their joints of flexion. Breaking. Growing. Cracking. Bleeding. Then the reek of fresh shit. The tearing of skin over and over. It was all a constant.

Mandy was frozen, refusing to accept what was happening yards in front of her.

This is a trap.

That means somebody knows you’re in here.

She dug her nails into the wall without realizing it, she was so on edge. There was one thing she could think to do, and that was to scream for help. “I’m behind the wall. For God’s sake, somebody hear me. SAVE ME!”

There was no apparent reaction from anywhere.

Nothing moved.

Then words eked out of a raw throat. “You haven’t seen monsters before, huh, Mandy?”

She couldn’t respond.

Biting words taunted her next. “No, you’re a gardener. You’ve been safe and sound the whole time.” A laugh, a
humph
, and then it warned her darkly. “
Not for much longer
.”

An overheard light flipped on, the source a single lightbulb. Behind her, a distant outline of a man ran out of her line of vision and darted back into the shadows. The sight ahead of her caused her to slide down the wall in sheer horror.

“No,” she muttered, her body suffering panic-induced spasms. “No, it can’t be.
It can’t
be
.”

Mandy’s legs were lead-heavy. She struggled to move, to clear more distance between her and the things ahead of her. How did these things come to exist? They removed her every previous understanding of what lived on the island.

“Stay away,” she threatened, though it was with a pitiful voice. “I don’t want to harm you.”

“But
we
wish to harm
you
.” The words were derived from a deviant’s throat. “
Lots of harm
.”

Edging itself into the light, a werewolf was hunched on all fours, its leathery skin bulging and rippling with muscles. Its back legs were ready to pounce, its hackles rose sharp as quills, and its meaty lips held back teeth razor sharp and dripping with yellowish slobber. Then she caught them in the shadows, the vampires on the floor, their hands posed to crawl, their black eyes ogling her with green lines through the orbs. Three zombies were also standing vigil in the background, awaiting a command, ready to be unleashed upon her. Their blackened flesh was shiny with fat seeping to the surface, the deep gulfs for eye sockets focused on her with every shred of existence on the line.

Still taking them in, she caught the strangest and most threatening sight: the vampire that was curled up on the floor. He was the one who had spoken the threats previously, and staring at him, she watched the show as his back split open completely down the spine and spit out a creature. It flopped out between the shoulder blades as if being birthed. It shoved aside muscle tissue and sinew to live, to escape. The creature was a werewolf the size of a five-year-old child and covered in blood and amniotic fluids. It shook spastically, waking up.

Before she could run, the birthed creature took action, charging after her. She only gained four steps before she was tackled from behind and feasted upon by the numerous and unseen creatures in the recess.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Brenner had canvassed the secret hallway for many hours. He placed floodlights to illuminate every detail hidden in the dark. There were no mouse holes or obvious tunnel entrances located so far. The bastards had covered their tracks. “I’ll find you,” he growled, sniffing the air. It reeked of zombies, of their blood and their rotting insides. His pulse quickened. Sweat beaded down every inch of his dermis as he thought about the secrets being kept from him.

Calm yourself. You’re going to lose it.

He subdued himself by studying the condition of the walls. They
were roughly excavated, hollowed out by instruments not designed for that kind of work. The stairs were roughly poured concrete.
Where did they find concrete to pour?

A shift occurred in the far wall at the very end of the mock corridor. A square was dislodged with the crunch of rock. The sizable square was kicked out by a waxen and pale foot. Judging by the curvature of its talons, it was a vampire.

Come on out.

Did the vampire not know he was there?

The mouse-in-the-hole game was eating at Brenner’s patience, so he decided to take a risk. He unholstered his .28 pistol. Sucking in a quiet breath, he surged. He charged the opening, taking aim and firing three times. Without knowing if his shots hit home, he reached inside and yanked the twitching body out. The vampire was a man, a weak and emaciated body covered in black earth. One bullet had struck him in the throat. Blood spurted from the hole in the trachea.

“That’s one rat smoked out from the hole.” Brenner wedged his boot against the creature’s throat. “You obviously can’t talk. Interrogating you would be a waste of time. I’m sure there are others who are seeing you die right now. I want them to know how much I relish one death. Yours.”

That’s when he crushed its neck.

“You can die just like anybody.” He raised his voice. “Each and every one of you can die like the rest of us!”

Brenner shone a flashlight into the hole the vampire had traveled from. Looking in, he observed a tunnel, perhaps ten or fifteen yards long. It fed into another hallway, then another, and another, and on and on; what ultimately gave the effect of a labyrinth of hidey holes.

Speaking into his walkie, he immediately ordered the excavation team onto the spot.

Richard paced in front of the naval radio. He had tried every frequency, and still no answer. He refused to give up. Communication blackouts had happened before, but not like this—not right before plans to destroy the island. The program directors abroad had promised the human inhabitants would be escorted off the island by ship. They were liars, of course. The real problem at hand was that they’d found the secret tunnels, and nobody had any idea what the monsters were conspiring to do.

Maybe there are other hired hands working for the PSA on the island who know about this situation. Perhaps their plan to blow up this fucking island has been postponed until they discover what’s happening below our feet.

I can only pray.

He tried the frequency again. “PAM Island to base…this is Richard Cortez…please respond…we have discovered secret tunnels under the base…investigations are in order…please respond…”

Those assholes are playing games. They’re shutting me out, but why?

Brenner’s onto me. He has to be. Jesus Christ, I can’t think straight.

He kicked the wall. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

Richard jumped when his beeper buzzed. He detested the dated contraptions. The number indicated Brenner had paged him. The message:
Meet me in the secret corridor.

He dreaded being in close contact with his superior again.

Richard tried one more time to communicate with the PSA.

Again, he failed.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kevin Black drove the ice pick into the freezer walls with purpose. Chunks of ice split. The four-inch hunks forked and finally broke into pieces. The tireless work took hours to complete, chiseling out the accumulation of ice in the food freezer. He was shivering in his thick wool and denim overcoat. His job was carving out the corpses that’d spent too long in the freezer and were encased in ice. The block of ice he was paring down suddenly broke in half at the last strike. Two walls of ice parted to reveal a man’s bluish-white face. Eyes frozen open, his mouth was bent as if crying out. Ignoring the ghastly sight, he kept striking the outer edges of the shell, eager to stack yet another corpse on top of the stack he’d already salvaged.

Shift manager Neil Riley had instructed him at the beginning of the week, “
We’re short bodies this month yet again. The vampires are devouring blood and the level-two zombies are glutting themselves nonstop. We have to put together what we can until next month’s shipment. We’re spreading it too thin already. Government doesn’t want to buy these freaks fine dining anymore
.”

“Break out, you dead piece of shit,” Kevin barked, the muscles in his arms and wrists cramping. “My arms are killing me.”

Taking his job to the next level, he selected a pickax to shatter the larger pieces surrounding the man’s body—a living work of art trying to break free. After many powerful strikes, the corpse tipped forward. The body landed headfirst onto the walk-in freezer’s floor with a hollow thud. He lifted up the body—which felt double heavy now that the man was frozen through—and stacked it on an oversize pushcart outside the freezer. This was body number six. Four women. Two men. Each of them was stripped of clothing, their bodies gleaming as if they were made of crystal.

Enjoying a rest, he sat on the end of the cart and removed the fifth of vodka from his inside pocket and enjoyed a nip. “Fuck it all,” he cheered.

From his position, he was located literally below the bar and dance floor. He could hear the muffled pulse and shake, projecting mixes of techno beats and 80s classics. And there was another sound. One he never heard while on duty at this hour.

The sound of another person’s voice.

“Are you thinking about me?”

The question was a hushed breath. The speaker only wanted to be heard by him. He couldn’t locate the person, so he pursued the voice with eagerness. This job was a lonely one.

Track lights glowed on the floor, spread out eight feet apart, shedding a muted amber. Neil Riley explained it was an attempt to save electricity. He used these as guideposts.

He bounded toward the woman’s voice. He was enticed, and not completely sure why. “If I wasn’t thinking about you earlier, I am now, lady.”

From the shadows, the outline of a woman slowly formed. It was Rachael, his girlfriend. A smile lit up in her eyes. The look she wore when she wanted sex and knew she’d get it.

“If Neil catches you down here, he’ll have us both reported—maybe reassigned. This job sucks, but it isn’t as bad as it can get.”

“I came all this way, and you’re going to turn me down?” She bit her lip seductively. “But I miss you.”

Convinced he should touch her, wanting to feel her against him, he wrapped his arms around her against his better judgment. “I missed you too, baby.”

Without transition, he was shouting in denial. The powerful punch of gangrene putrescence made him gag. He backed up in stupefied horror. He gawked at her with disbelieving eyes as she withdrew her clothes until she was naked. Then her flesh slipped from her body in one layer—the woman simply willing it to unsheathe like a loose garment—and the rotting zombie imposter revealed itself. By the time he put it together, he was tackled to the floor. Reeling from the shock of the metamorphosis, he was ravaged to death by the hungry, feeding corpse.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Addey didn’t wake to the phone ringing or the alarm clock’s buzz, but instead to the knock at the door. She checked the digital clock. It was six in the morning. She wanted more rest. She was sore everywhere, especially around her legs and shoulders.

The knock came again, this time more adamant.

“Give me a second,” she insisted, trudging out of bed. She opened the door to Cynthia Wells, the woman who had called for help when she was near death. “Oh, it’s you.”

Cynthia invited herself in, closing the door swiftly behind her. “Good morning.” She was all business. “I assume Richard’s talked to you. We’re working on a team now.” Her eyes veered from Addey as if ashamed. “You’re the bait, by the looks of it.”

It was the first time somebody other than Richard explained her role in things. “Bait?”

“You’re the only one the vampires could possibly want, according to Richard. You uncovered their hideout, and they’re pissed at you. I’m not worried, though. I’ve got your back. And I know you can handle yourself.”