Monsterland by Michael Phillip Cash Page A

came out garbled, barely intelligible, but he dragged the words from the recesses of his past to spit them out. He screamed from the pain of his atrophied throat muscles and rammed against the gate. In truth, Billy barely remembered his mother. He had fled his home when he realized that he was not like his brothers. He was different, his strangeness causing them to keep a distance. He tried to fit in but knew instinctively he didn’t belong. It happened once a month, when night descended, and the full moon gazed balefully down at him. His body would betray him, changing, shredding his clothes, forcing him to flee his home to search for food. The ravenous hunger would send him running, hunting, looking for a living thing to rip apart with his bare hands. He would eat, bloodlust in his eyes, searching for and stealing chickens and dogs, until one day he found it was not enough. When the moon evaporated, he felt himself return to his boyhood body to find the dismembered corpse of his neighbor spread about the greasy grass. He ran then, hiding during the day,foraging at night, howling at the betraying moon, never resting until an answering howl told him he had found a home. There were ten of them, all male, all the same. They lived in the Everglades, away from humankind, living off the dense population of alligators—until Vincent Conrad had destroyed their peace.
    “You filthy animal.” The zookeeper yanked on a four-inch-wide hose, his face smiling evilly. “Got to get cleaned up. Company’s coming.”
    Billy cringed as the nozzle jerked in the keeper’s hands, spraying his pen with hurricane-force jets of water. He folded up, his naked body beaten by the freezing liquid. It forced him into a corner, his feet slipping on the slimy, muddy floor. His unkempt hair lay coldly on his back in long rattails. The knobs of his spine scraped the brick in the back of his pen, scraping it raw. He surged forward, hitting the chain link fence so that it bowed outward, and he had the satisfaction of smacking against his jailor. His hands slid through the meal slot to grip the worker by his neck. Billy shook him like a rag doll. He snarled a smile at the satisfying
thunk
when the keeper fell on his backside. All the inmates laughed and then started their howling. Burning needles hit him on his hairy, naked chest when the guard Tasered him. Billy collapsed, breathlessly keeping his hands underneath him.
    “I told you not to get too close!” a coworker yelled as he helped him up. “You can’t taunt them. You’ve been warned.”
    “Yeah, yeah. What are you going to do, replace me? Nobody wants to work in this stink hole,” he grumbled. They left the room.
    “You okay, Billy?” Petey growled.
    “Never better,” Billy said, holding up a flat, plastic card. It was the passkey to all the cells.

C HAPTER 10
    C arter leaned against the wall, his eyes scanning the growing crowd of dignitaries invited to the grand opening. Danny Jessup, his boss and chief of police, walked past him, pausing to take a sip from his ever-present coffee cup. He exchanged a look over the rim, catching Carter’s shrug. His phone vibrated with a message. He pulled it out, noting that Wyatt informed him he’d just arrived.
    Carter texted back, “Can’t now—on duty. Meet you later.”
    The press walked around, getting interviews from the guests. The air buzzed with excitement, like opening night. Carter laughed. It was like the friggin’ Oscars, he snorted to himself.
    Jessup’s deep-set eyes watched him intently. He was just past forty, and his love of burritos showed on his waistline. He hitched his pants and nodded. “Kids?”
    “Yep. They’ve arrived. Yours?”
    Jessup shook his head. “Nope. Told them I didn’t want them here. Don’t want distractions.”
    Carter nodded. “Mine got special invitations.”
    “You could have said no.”
    Carter cocked his head. “What, and be the evil stepfather? No thanks. I’m still working on getting them