Monsterland
By Michael Okon
4.5/5
()
About this ebook
Welcome to Monsterland—the scariest place on Earth.
Wyatt Baldwin's senior year is not going well. His parents divorce, then his dad mysteriously dies. He’s not exactly comfortable with his new stepfather, Carter White, either. An ongoing debate with his best friends Melvin and Howard Drucker over which monster is superior has gotten stale. He’d much rather spend his days with beautiful and popular Jade. However, she’s dating the brash high-school quarterback Nolan, and Wyatt thinks he doesn’t stand a chance.
But everything changes when Wyatt and his friends are invited to attend the grand opening of Monsterland, a groundbreaking theme park where guests can interact with vampires in Vampire Village, be chased by werewolves on the River Run, and walk among the dead in Zombieville.
With real werewolves, vampires and zombies as the main attractions, what could possibly go wrong?
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Reviews for Monsterland
16 ratings6 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5More, More, More. Reading this book was an entertaining, awesome read! You can really tell that Mr. Okon has a storyteller DNA in his soul. Plus the fact that Mr. Okon is a movie buff shows in this book. I could see this book being made into a movie. Yet, I cringle at the idea a bit only because I would not want this book to be hacked up into something that it is not. Yes, there is blood and gore but not over the top or cheesy. Doctor Vincent Konrad may have seemed crazy to some but he had a great vision for a theme park. In fact, if you think about it Dr. Konrad is like John Hammond, founder of Jurassic Park. Both parks sounded good but neither men expected their attractions to attack back. There were so many great moments and lines from this book that are worth quoting. Yet, I really like Keep Calm and Monster On. Don't walk but run and pick up a copy of this book today. Monsterland is a masterpiece of great storytelling by a talented writer!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Fast, fun, exciting read. It took about 4 hours to do so. It's a good one for horror fans of any age, with appealing teen protagonists (although brother Sean is a bit of a jerk), plenty of werewolves (who get my sympathy vote), flesh-falling-off zombies, cheesy vampires and a megalomaniacal villain.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I received an Advanced Reading Copy from the author.Werewolves, vampires and zombies, oh my! But don’t be misled, this is no Wizard of Oz. Monsterland is a far cry from the land of dreams that is Disneyland, and is much more comparable to the freak show of Ripley’s Believe it or Not filled with horrors like Jurrasic Park. Monsterland is a theme park filled with the creatures that plague your nightmares. The horror movie buff in me would absolutely love to have an all access pass to the theme park, so I was filled with delight when I was given the opportunity to read and review this novel.With such a great concept my expectations were high as I jumped into this novel. Michael Okon does not disappoint, fulfilling my fantasies with great writing and multiple points of view. I found that aspect in particular to be great with this novel, because there are so many interesting perspectives to be seen within Monsterland.The characters are each unique and entertaining. They have more dimension than most characters in horror movies, but not too much that the story gets bogged down with backgrounds. They make for the perfect cast to attend the disastrous opening night of Monsterland.I found myself trying very hard to pace myself with reading this one. Honestly, my only real complaint is that it wasn’t long enough! I loved this story and would have appreciated another hundred or two hundred pages. This is exactly the type of ride I like to be taken on, and I didn’t want to get off.Michael Okon crafts a fabulous novel with unique, unforgettable characters. I have a novella by him, A History Major, that I can’t wait to dive into. He really has a gift for storytelling.The world building was done fabulously. There were believable backgrounds that explain how it could be possible for there to be a world that had not only vampires, but also werewolves and zombies, excuse me, the vitality-challenged. It all comes together seamlessly as the plot lines converge to make for an explosive ending. As the first novel I have read by Michael Okon, I am impressed.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Carter had married Wyatt and Sean's mother well after the divorce which left mother and sons struggling to survive. Working as a policeman, Carter didn't make a lit of money, but the two of them were able to at least care for their own, plus, the two boys basic needs..Carter had never before been married, nor have children. He was learning how to be a parent, but it wasn't easy. The boys seemed to like him, yet resented him making any effort to set rules or enforce any type pf discipline. After the marriage, the boys biological father died in an accident. Although their biological dad never offered any type of attention to them, the boys still refused to acknowledge Carter as their Dad,While the boys were out with peers, a once in a lifetime opportunity was offered to them. Now all they had to do ws convince their mom and Carter to let them embrace it. To everyone's shock, Carter agreed to let them go, since he would be there because of his work.Little did anyone know how life-changing this would be to everyone involved.The author had a vivid, gruesome imagination. The story "flowed" steadily and smoothly, captivating the readers interest.Some of the events were surprising, others predictable. However, the story was an interesting tale, weaving in paranormal societies.Within the book content, it addressed several social issues. including bullying. It emphasized the fact that bullies aren't respected, nor liked. Whereas the issues were addressed the plot took them to the extreme.This YA Novel is very graphically, morbidly, violent and is not recommended to those under the age of seventeen.The character were realistic, the events depicted well and the overall literary accomplishments were impressively disturbing.. There were brief gaps in going from one scene to another.*This book was gifted me with no pressure for a positive review. This is my honest review.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Monsterland has been billed as the scariest theme park ever. It houses the things that people fear most: vampires, werewolves, and zombies. Much like Disneyland, the park is divided into three areas: Vampire Village, Zombieville, and River Run.The brainchild behind the park is Dr. Vincent Conrad, who has spent years gathering the near-extinct populations of vampires, werewolves, and zombies. In addition to actually seeing the creatures, one of the lures of the park is that visitors can interact with them. Conrad not only gathered enough specimens for a park in Cooper Valley, California, he gathered enough to open six parks around the world in China, Australia, Brazil, France, South Africa, and Egypt.As the story opens, opening day is near, and excitement is building, especially for three nerdy high school friends, Howard, Melvin, and Wyatt. The guys are desperate to get their hands on the most-sought-after tickets in the world. A chance encounter in a local burger joint with Dr. Conrad, and the teenagers not only get tickets, Conrad gives them exclusive behind-the scenes tickets. The same types of tickets world leaders, like the President of the United States, have.Of course, something goes horribly wrong, which makes the entire plot predictable. And of course, what happens in California is happening around the globe.Just for the record, I usually don’t read books that contain vampires, werewolves, and zombies. I read this book because I have enjoyed other books by Michael Phillip Cash, and he sent me a copy. Another area I had trouble with was confusion between the characters whose names were similar. For example, I kept getting Wyatt’s stepfather, Carter, confused with Conrad. There were other instances, but I forget them now. One of the boys kinda disappeared after they entered the park, which I found odd.I give Monsterland 3 out of 5 stars. The plot flowed, the story has good structure. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Comparisons between Monsterland (no connection to the 2016 movie of the same name) and Jurassic Park, in terms of the basic plot concept, are unavoidable: collect populations of very dangerous creatures ("monsters" like vampires, werewolves, and zombies) and put 'em in a themepark for crowds of silly gawking humans to ogle. What could go wrong?The similarities mostly fall away beyond that, though. These themeparks are near populated areas, not some remote private island. National governments are falling all over themselves to support and be seen promoting these parks. Starkly megalomaniacal motivations afoot. Story aspects that are difficult to believe would ever happen, but that just depends on how much disbelief one is willing to suspend.A few issues that I had include:* Most characters were relatively generic stereotypes, right down to the jerk high school quarterback. Even the vampires, which were at least developed a bit beyond being stereotypical bloodsuckers, still mostly talked and behaved like simple stereotypical delinquent teenagers. Not that such people don't exist, but some distinctive depth of character somewhere (or at least some throwaway lines acknowledging the stereotypes) would have been nice.* Occasional but significant continuity issues, such as how a crowded boatload of parkgoers excitedly looking every which way somehow all missed someone climbing out and atop the boat's canopy cover, etc.* Just generally simplistic plot and writing. Maybe as an middle-grade-to-early-YA novel (except for the gore), but even then...OTOH, if your expectations on such aren't too high (such as if you find fun the occasional cheap B-movie experience), this might make for an entertaining light read (per many of the other reviews). Not so much for me.
Book preview
Monsterland - Michael Okon
Chapter 1
The Everglades
The fire Billy created burned bright; rabbits roasted on a spit made from hickory, the juices dripping to hiss in the flames. Seven of his hairy friends lay in scattered repose, enjoying the late afternoon lull—two napped, the others tossed a stuffed fur in the form of a ball around the clearing, hooting with amusement when it rolled into the brush. They traveled in a pack, his group, his makeshift family, foraging together, hiding in plain sight. It had been that way for generations. But the glades were getting smaller, the humans invasive.
Mosquitoes droned lazily over the still water. Frogs croaked while they sunbathed on waxy lily pads. The sun started its slow descent to the horizon, hot pink and lilac clouds rippling against the empty canvas of the sky. Here and there, fireflies lit the gloom, doing a placid ballet in the humid air.
Unseen, the men moved closer to the campfire as the sun sank into the western treetops.
A lone hawk cried out a warning, disturbing the peace of the glade. Huge birds answered, flapping their wings, creating a cacophony of swamp sounds. The area became a concerto of animals responding to the disruption of their home—wild screams, squeaks, and complaints of the invasion of their territory.
Billy stood, his head tilted as he listened intently. He heard a melody, that strange organization of sounds, predictable as well as dangerous. It had been years since he’d heard music. His stomach clenched with uneasiness. Where those rhythms originated meant only one thing—they were not alone in the swamp.
His pack rose, tense and alert, their eyes watching the waterway. Billy silently parted the thick leaves to expose a flat-bottom boat with dangerous strangers floating slowly toward them.
The boat was filled with people, excitedly searching the banks of the swamp, their expensive khaki bush clothes ringed with sweat.
Little John, Billy’s best friend, leaned closer and whispered, Tourists?
Billy noticed the rifles before the rest of the group. He held up his hand signaling for silence. Not tourists. Enemies,
he replied.
Men’s voices drifted on the turgid air.
This is no good, Billy thought furiously. He was gauging the time, his eyes opening wide. It was late. They had to get out of there. It’s going to happen, and those people are going to see it.
The bald top of the moon peeked over the line of trees in the south, the sky graying to twilight with each passing second. Night came fast in the swamp, dropping a curtain of darkness, extinguishing all light except for the beacon of the full moon. It continued to float upward, indifferent to the consequences for its innocent victims.
A halo of lighter blue surrounded the globe, limning the trees silver, the cobwebs in the branches becoming chains of dripping diamonds in the coming night.
What do these strangers want? Billy fought the urge to scream. This is our home. Humans don’t belong in the swamp.
The moon continued to rise, the familiar agony beginning in his chest. A full moon, a dangerous moon. Billy fought the demons churning within his body, feeling the pain of metamorphosis.
He curled inward, hunching his shoulders, the curse of his nature making his spine pull until his tendons and muscles tore from their human positions to transform into something wicked.
A howl erupted from his throat, followed by another, and then another. Grabbing handfuls of dirt, he tried to fight the awful change, but, as the sun set, the moon took control of his life, and the unnatural force tore through his unwilling body.
Reason fled, his heart raced. Falling on his hands and knees, Billy let loose a keening cry as his face elongated, his body changing into a canine, fangs filling his mouth. He raced in a circle in a demented dance, knowing his fellow pack members did the same thing.
Slowing, he regulated his labored breathing, forcing the icy calmness he needed to keep some semblance of reason. He peered through the dense brush. Lights from the search party bobbed in between the thick reeds. The odor, the stench of humanity, filled the clearing. The enemy had arrived.
He turned, digging furiously on the ground, throwing dirt on the campfire flames, hiding their existence. Discovery would ruin everything. No one could live with their kind.
Humans brought disease; humans brought anger; humans brought hatred. They were there; he could smell them, see their clumsy bodies splashing through the bog.
They’ve found us,
he growled in the unique language they used after transformation. Run!
he barked as he turned to his pack, watching his friends’ naked skin transform until it was covered with the same silvered fur.
They cried out in unison at the pain, howling with the injustice, and then ran in fear from the interlopers threatening their habitat.
They separated into two groups and took off in different directions to confuse the strangers.
Billy tore through the brush, thorns ripping his fur, and, in his adrenaline rush, he didn’t feel anything. He glanced backward; the humans were chasing them, one running with a huge camera. Nine other hunters followed, the long barrels of their rifles bearing down on them.
Behind him, he heard multiple shots and triumphant shouts, knowing that his friends were succumbing one by one.
With a frantic growl, he urged Little John, Petey, and Todd to run faster.
Little John’s massive body was blocking him. Billy bayed at him to keep his head closer to the ground. He worried about Little John, knowing that his big frame might as well have had a target painted on it.
Stay close together,
he urged. His heart sank when he heard Todd yelp. The shot hit his friend from behind, sending him careening into a trench. Billy wanted to stop but knew he couldn’t help Todd. The humans were on his friend’s fallen body seconds later. He had to find Petey and Little John a place to hide.
There was a loud scream as one of their pursuers stumbled on a root to their left. Billy paused, panting wildly, to get his bearings next to the broad trunk of a cypress tree.
Which way?
Petey asked.
Billy’s eyes searched the tangle of the mangroves for an opening.
A shot rang out, splintering a tree, sending shards of bark around them. Billy reared in surprised shock. It wasn’t a bullet. A red feathered dart was vibrating next to him, sticking out of the wood.
What is that?
Petey whimpered.
It’s a dart,
Billy said. They’re trying to capture us. This way!
He and his packmates took off, disappearing into the twisted vines.
They clawed through the swamp, hiding behind clusters of Spanish moss, dipping under the water when the hunters approached.
One man in the group stood taller and leaner than the rest, his dark wolfish eyes scanning the dense undergrowth looking for them. The man paused, training his gun in Billy’s direction as if he could see straight through the foliage.
Billy held his breath, terrified of discovery, but the harried sounds of a chase distracted the leader of the hunters.
Billy and his pack skirted solid ground, their bodies quivering. He glanced at the sky, wishing for the sun to rise so that he would transform back to being human.
The splashes of their pursuers seemed to recede. The pack waited in claustrophobic silence for the time to pass.
Billy spied a dinghy heading towards the flat-bottom boat as dawn approached. They heard the sputter of an engine being turned over.
They’re leaving,
Little John said hopefully.
The rays of the sun lit the eastern sky. It was quiet once more. They paddled softly toward the shore. Coming out of the water, they shook themselves of the muck. Early morning birdcalls broke out in the thick stillness.
Billy barked a cry of dismay as shots rang out. Little John went down in a tumble of leaves and mud, a dart silencing him.
Billy veered right, squirming under a broken log, Petey barreling over it. The report of another shot and a loud thump told him that he had lost Petey too.
What do they want from us?
Billy dug his paws into the marshy land, his heart pumping like a piston. He leaped high over an alligator dozing in the shade of a leafy tree. Billy felt the impact of a dart, a sharp pain ripping into his flank.
His eyes dimmed as he tumbled headlong onto the boggy ground. He rolled over and over, coming to rest on a bed of rotting leaves. He couldn’t move; his limbs were leaden. His ears registered the sound of running feet.
Billy looked up into the triumphant, black eyes of the man who led the attack. The hunter placed his boot on his neck, holding him down.
Got ya,
he heard the man say with a thick accent before everything went dark.
Chapter 2
Copper Valley—the Badlands in California
The house was little more than a bungalow with a screened porch that doubled as a den in the summer. Carter White had his feet on a ratty old ottoman, his large frame sprawled on the flowered couch he’d inherited from his aunt Junie when she died. They had blended all their furniture when they married, Gracie and him. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but with her two monsters, it didn’t pay to have new furnishings.
Maybe monsters
was a tad too extreme, Carter admitted. Sean was a handful, but Wyatt was a good kid. They were Gracie’s sons—Sean was fourteen, and Wyatt was turning eighteen this spring, right before graduation, which was five weeks away.
He and Gracie had been together for two years, meeting a year after her divorce when she moved back to Copper Valley and into her folks’ old place. They finally tied the knot early this past September, and six months later they got word that Gracie’s ex, Frank, had died suddenly while on a job.
Sean burst through the screen door, practically ripping it off its hinges.
Hey!
Carter shouted in his best highway patrol voice. Take it easy.
Sean paused, breathing hard, his feet encased in the red mud of the high desert, his tennis shoes stained as if he had just left a crime scene.
Your mom’s gonna kill you.
Carter looked down at his stepson’s feet. Don’t track that stuff in here.
Sean threw his knapsack on the faded couch and then ripped off his shirt to wipe down the white leather of his sneakers. Dammit,
he muttered.
Hey, now.
Carter lowered the sound on the television, his news program forgotten. He gave the youngster an arch look. You running in the wash again?
The wash was a gully that ran parallel to the school. Gracie was too lenient, and he was in that cloudy area when it came to parenting. He found his disciplining methods meeting head on with the you’re not my father
comment.
They were still working on his role in the kids’ lives. While they seemed to like him well enough, hit the hoops and watched baseball with him, they kindly rejected his offer to call him Dad, and, more often than not, he was made to feel unwelcome in their tight trio. He put that down to their closeness after the abusive relationship they’d had with their father.
Frank Baldwin was a creep, a lying, low-down, crooked lawyer who liked to torment Gracie and make the kids choose sides. He pushed them away with his selfish ambition, cloaked in concern for the well-being of his family. Frank had left them high and dry, with Carter’s cop salary and Gracie’s teaching job supporting them. Frank donated all his money to some hole-in-the-wall charity. Well, none of that mattered now, Carter thought. He had it under control. Still, when Frank crooked his finger, the kids ran to see him. But now he was gone, and somehow it ruined the peace of their home. Carter couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew it was true.
Nah … um, no. I—
Sean’s reply was cut off by pounding footsteps. Sean spun quickly, latching the flimsy screen door, and then burst out laughing. Wyatt slammed his fist against the chipped green paint of the door.
Sean!
he shouted, his eyes narrowed with anger. Sean, I’m gonna kill you.
Carter unfolded himself from his comfortable spot, his six-foot-four-inch body filling the crowded room. Did some damage, Sean?
he asked quietly.
Sean shrugged indifferently, bolting when Carter motioned for him to leave with a slight nod.
Carter unlatched and then caught the abused screen door as Wyatt yanked it open. Hard day?
Where is he? I’m gonna rip the little bastard apart.
Wyatt drew his breath in great gulping sobs. A crumpled piece of paper was fisted in his hand.
I have it on the best authority that your parents were well and truly married when Sean entered this world. Little brothers are the devil. Sit down and cool off.
Wyatt pushed forward, but the large, warm hand on his shoulder slowed him down. He saw Carter’s gentle gray eyes look pointedly at the sofa, his eyebrows raised in silent question. Wyatt ungraciously threw himself onto the sagging pillows, releasing a cloud of ever-present dust.
They sat in silence, Carter relaxing back in his spot, the television droning in the background. Carter watched his stepson struggle to calm himself. It was evident he was livid, filled with fury. He saw Wyatt squeeze the piece of paper in his hand into a tight ball, crushing it. Wyatt’s foot jiggled with impatience. He had tried hard to find common ground, but, other than basketball and the new theme park, Carter had few interests to connect with the kids.
He tried to take him shooting in the desert, but Wyatt called it a mindless activity, and that was the end of that. Wyatt had a problem with the loudness of the guns. Carter would watch his stepson flinch with each shot fired.
The noise never bothered Sean, the more rascally of the two. He knew that while Sean loved the loud report of the guns, Wyatt seemed afraid of the noise. They lived in careful respect; he was aware that Wyatt was heartily disappointed that he was not going away to college in the fall. They were cramped in the old house, but it was the best they could do under the circumstances.
Frank left them no estate, even though Gracie was sure he had buckets of money. The lawyer said it was gone, eaten up by their costly divorce, and the balance given to charity. No way to treat a family, in Carter’s opinion. Hell, he gave up his bike to help get Wyatt his first car. It was a jalopy, but it had four wheels and a gas tank.
Carter eyed him from his spot, deftly changing the subject to baseball. They discussed last night’s Sidewinders game; Wyatt lost his sullenness. The kid had a great batting arm, Carter thought proudly. He wished he’d do something with it, other than the occasional sandlot game.
He pointed the remote to the old hospital-issued television bolted to the corner of the room. They had bought it at an auction when County General closed last year. They were forced to travel thirty miles for medical help until Vincent Konrad gifted the small community with a huge medical center for allowing the building of his new theme park. The new hospital was opening now, bigger and better than the one the city shut down due to budget cuts. It was creating a lot of jobs, and the theme park would be bringing in a boatload of tourists, which, in turn, infused necessary cash into the starving town.
The goddamned water had been turned off six months ago. If not for Saint Vincent buying them the rights to the San Simi pipeline, they would have pretty much had to abandon their homes.
Copper Valley was out of money, as were most small towns and even some of the larger cities in America. The police force, fire department, and paramedics were on the verge of being shut down, city hall right behind them. The vagrant population, jobless people who traveled from town to town looking for work, had tripled, bringing crime to the bucolic streets of the sleepy enclave.
Vincent’s business plan provided both housing and employment, enabling the homeless to get off the village streets. While there had been no outbreak of the virus in California, the entire country’s economy suffered as the world dealt with the pandemic that had broken out two years ago.
The virus