Garden : A Dystopian Horror Novel

by Carol James Marshall

  BD had heard the buzzing, too. He tapped Danny’s shoulder, and when Danny faced him, he mouthed, “Drones.”

  “What do we do?” Danny whispered, frowning.

  “We hope,” BD answered, “that whoever is manning the drones doesn’t pay attention to our vehicle. Then, when they have gone, we get the hell out of here.” Danny nodded, and

  BD added, “Your mother is on to us.”

  BD wondered if it came to it, could he run? His feet were agonizingly sore from the constant curling and uncurling of his toes, and he wasn’t sure he could run.

  BD thought of the car, the two women, and Danny’s promises. He came to only one conclusion. If these women had a ticket out-of-town, he was taking it and going with them by whatever means possible. He firmed up his grip on his Shaky. He would use it if he had to.

  “Vente...” Jen smiled at her father, her hand held out to him, her eyes pleading. She knew he was a stubborn man, but he could be moved by love. The love of his daughters, Jen hoped, would make him do as he was told for once.

  “¿Y la policía?” her father responded, looking Danny’s gun for hire and his Shaky.

  “Trabaja para Danny. Danny te ayudará,” answered Jen, tears flowing. Her mother skipped and twirled towards the door.

  “Vamos, Miguel,” Jen’s mother said, calm and with little effort. She had nothing left to lose and only to gain.

  “No,” answered Jen’s father. “Vas tu.” You go.

  Without words, without pause, without as much as a “fine then,” Jen’s mother opened the front door and left.

  Jen shook her head in denial, not exasperation. She had come for them both. To leave with only one of them was wrong. They were a pair, had been so since childhood, since their days of selling gum on street corners to get money to eat that night.

  Jen scrambled to catch her mother, but Danny stopped her, tightly wrapping his arms around her. He yanked her out of the drones’ line of sight.

  No one but Leo saw what happened to the girls mother. Leo, who leaned against a building, one hand on his grill, another in his pocket, watched Jen’s mother lurch and skip down the stairs.

  Before her foot left the last step, drones had blocked her way. A computerized voice blared from the drones’ built-in speakers: “What is your employee number? Where are you going?”

  Jen’s mother gripped the railing and did her best to hold her legs still. They wanted to skip, they wanted to twirl. She wanted to see all her daughters. She wanted to be free from the poison that had made her this circus clown.

  “Number,” murmured Jen’s mother. “Number...”

  The speakers spit out orders again, “What is your employee number? Do not move.”

  Was it only moments ago Jen’s mother had wiped tears off her and her daughter's faces? Her hands were slick with the grief she and her daughter had felt. She couldn’t remember her employee number, and she didn’t have the English to explain that she didn’t remember. She needed her employee badge, but her legs wouldn't stay still; and she couldn’t hold on for much longer.

  She didn’t have the English to tell them she was a good worker who took her YUM every day even though it had made her own legs an enemy and her face a cartoon. She pushed herself back hoping to bury herself in the darkness, but her legs had other intentions.

  She lunged forward, and everyone around the block could hear the pop, everyone except Jen, who had pressed her face against her father’s chest.

  The beads from a drone’s Shaky hit the woman’s body, setting it vibrating. It took but a nanosecond for each bead to penetrate the skin, but the first hit didn’t hurt the most. What was agonizing was the burrowing.

  It only took seconds to burrow under the skin but in those seconds, thousands of small, vibrating beads shredded sinew and muscle and headed straight for bone. On average, it took a Shaky fewer than one and one-half minutes to liquefy the inside of a human being, leaving nothing but a husk behind. Liquefied tissue, a smoothie of human remains, oozed from every tiny hole left by the beads. Some said death by Shaky should be seen as a kindness since it was quick. Yes, it was quick but also a horribly painful minute and a half.

  In Madam’s eyes, death by Shaky was a merciful act provided by her benevolence.

  “Done, Madam,” said the Nutri-Corp drone pilot. He longed to take his sweaty hands off his controller and hoped Madam did not notice the light tremble in his shoulders.

  “Well done,” answered Madam. She faced Sir, who was at her side. “That’ll teach my boy to not go wandering about without permission.”

  Sir only smiled, his laugh low and menacing. Madam left the drone control center, and Sir followed.

  Once Madam and Sir were both gone, the drone officer bowed his head and begged forgiveness from any god that came to mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Knock, Knock

  Finding no one at her front door after hearing the knock Lola left the sister's trailer in a sprint. She headed to Robert’s and Manuel's trailer, something she’d done often when she first became a Gardener. As she’d gotten older, her visits became less frequent, and Lola never could pinpoint why that was.

  Robert’s and Manuel’s trailer sat at the front of the Gardener camp. Or was it the front? Maybe it was the side of the Gardener camp or the rear. Was there even a front and a back? The overgrown brush, the kudzu, the carefully planted trees gave anyone pause if they happened to wander in. The camp was a reason to blink, look around, and blink again, as the wanderer did his or her best to gain a bearing in a place Manuel had carefully constructed in disguise which way was left or right, east or west.

  Lola, like Suzy, Jacob, and Jen, knew the one secret that made this overgrown jungle make sense: a simple red circle, a dot really, painted on an abandoned wheelbarrow leaning against a tree stump. Every Gardener knew a small red dot meant a marker, a navigational point. The red dots were hard to see, even for a trained eye let alone a lost hiker or the like.

  This dot on the wheelbarrow with the splintered handles pointed toward Robert’s and Manuel’s trailer. Manuel had disguised the trailer with an overgrowth of vines. Lola had to move a section of vines aside to knock on the trailer door. While she waited for a response, Lola felt as if someone watched her. That had to be Daisy, who lived nearby in a camper not as carefully concealed, though it did look decrepit and abandoned. Lola always thought that was on purpose, as if they had wanted her trailer spotted.

  Manuel opened the trailer door, hair on end as if she’d wakened him. He wore a pair of jogging pants and a hoodie.

  “Suzy is missing,” Lola blurted, not bothering with hello. She needed help. She didn’t need to explain herself.

  Manuel straightened, eyes wide. He disappeared into the trailer, but Jacob appeared moments later. He pushed his way past Lola and ran off in the direction of the field where, Lola knew, he and Suzy often played.

  Lola breathed in the earthy scent of the vines, the woods, everything green, organic, and dirty; a musty, fetid smell that reminded her of her mother’s garden. So long ago. Well, not really; it only seemed like a lifetime ago.

  She thought she heard the snort of a hog nearby, and she wanted nothing more than to fall to her knees, dig with her own hands, and bury herself into the dirt, cover herself with the grime of being a Gardener. Truly hidden that way, maybe then she’d finally feel safe. But what of her sisters? What of the parents Jen might bring home that very night?

  Lola looked toward where Jacob had headed. Jacob could only follow his intuition about wherever Suzy might have gone. And he would be terrified for Suzy, scared to death.

  She headed after Jacob. In no time, she heard him scrambling among the wild growth of brush and vines. Lola thought she heard a sob escape Jacob who wasn’t far in front of her now. He loved Suzy as much as Lola and Jen did. There was no faking it from Jacob. He was different but pure, saintly, true in his every emotion, not a lying bone in his body.

  Lola heard movement behind her and saw
the glare of a flashlight. Over her shoulder, she saw Manuel running toward her. He reached her side and kept pace with her, not speaking but flicking the flashlight to and fro, listening, watching intently, going forward as if with a purpose.

  Lola was almost overrun with emotion. How would she tell Jen that she had lost their sister? How could she tell her parents their youngest daughter was lost? Thinking of her parents angered Lola. Why would Lola care what the parents who’d never searched for them thought? The parents who didn’t do anything but bend to the will of Nutri-Corp. How dare they judge her for falling asleep and losing her sister. How dare they judge her, but Jen...? Jen would dare; she should dare.

  Jen was Suzy’s purposeful shadow, a goddess watching over her little sister's safety, even more so than Lola did. Jen wouldn’t reproach Lola, but Jen would hurt. Jen’s heart would bleed out.

  Suzy’s fever had told her to follow the night breeze. But the breeze eluded her, like rabbits. Suzy remembered rabbits, chasing them with Jacob, laughing at their little fuzzy tails as they hopped away. The breeze kept hopping away, and Suzy kept chasing it.

  If she caught the breeze, she could breathe better, no matter where she went, no matter where the breeze led her.

  Suzy smiled, thanking the breeze for being such a great friend. It would help her feel better, clear her nose, clear the junky feeling from her chest.

  Barefooted, Suzy felt the cool field grass on her toes. The blades of grass seemed to grasp at her heels, as if wanting Suzy to become one with them, to stay in the field to grow in the warm sun, but Suzy wasn’t sure if she should listen.

  If she stayed with the grass, she might lose the breeze. Then, she wouldn’t be able to breathe ever again, and that made Suzy want to cry.

  Rubbing the tears from her cheeks, Suzy realized this wasn’t a dream, that she wasn’t on her cot in the trailer, that Lola wasn’t snoring nearby. Instead, Suzy stood in a field, shivering, the hair on the back of her neck on end.

  Lola and Jen had made sure Suzy had nothing to fear—from Nutri-Corp, from The Hunt, from anyone. As safe as Suzy felt in her library, she was safer here. But, for the first time in a long time, Suzy felt fear shimmy up her legs and rest on her shoulders. She didn’t understand why she was in the field. She didn’t really remember who she was and didn’t understand how to ask for help.

  She was so tired, a tired so big that Suzy thought she could sleep for days and days without even bothering to get up to pee. She couldn’t fall asleep here. She followed the breeze again.

  A few steps forward and the grass became wet beneath her feet. Even as she saw the glimmer of water ahead, Suzy didn’t understand why there was water here.

  Suzy swayed, trying in vain to breathe. Her throat hurt so very much, and she was the coldest she’d ever been. Suzy cried; she was so confused.

  Jen begged her father to come, but he said no to every argument she offered. At last, she took Danny’s hand and walked with him out the door. As she passed him, BD couldn’t categorize what he saw on her face. Disappointment? Anger? Frustration?

  Then came the tug on his Shaky, and BD stared at the old man who held the muzzle of his Shaky against his own chest.

  “Kill me,” the old man said in a thick accent. “I no go. Kill me.”

  Danny and Jen would expect BD to bring the old man, but BD knew they wouldn’t bother to look behind them until they got to the car. Danny’s only goal at that point would be to get Jen to the car without her seeing the skin sack of her mother on the street.

  But BD had lingered too long, and now this old man had made an unreasonable request of him.

  The old man held the Shaky in place with his “good” arm, the other flailing about. The old man had likely heard his life partner, his wife, be turned into goo, but the YUM’s pull was too hard. BD’s toes curled so hard in his boots, he thought his eyes might water from the pain.

  “Okay, you kill me,” pleaded the old man giving the Shaky a tug. He nodded at BD.

  Almost without thinking, BD hit the trigger once. The Shaky jerked only a little, and the “pop” was muffled. At such close range, the beads would only enter at the point where the muzzle contacted his chest. They would spread inside his body, no slowing down from air resistance. The vibrating beads would shred him in less than a second.

  BD turned and left the apartment, walking on his very sore feet and wishing that life was something different, something beautiful and fulfilling. Not this. Anything but this.

  Maybe the old man had the right idea.

  BD ran as fast as ticcing feet would take him, down the stairs, through the parking lot, and back to the waiting car. He slid into the driver's seat and turned to a pale and haunted Danny.

  BD asked, “To the cages?”

  “Yes,” Danny answered, ignoring the panicked gasp that escaped Chandler’s mouth.

  Suzy heard the buzz of fairy wings. She could see the fairy lights in the distance. She had lain down at the edge of the pond, half in the water, hoping little fish would come by, snuggle her, and maybe nibble away the ice that she felt covered her goose-pimpled skin.

  Her eyes opening and closing, Suzy’s head felt heavier and heavier. She was falling asleep, but it was okay because the fairies were on their way. She was sure the garden fairies would save her.

  A snort. The rancid, the rotten scent of hogs. Suzy knew she should leave, but her legs wouldn’t listen; her arms weren’t paying attention. The hogs would be too big for the fairies to handle.

  She felt hands on her feet pulling, pulling. Darkness took over, and Suzy decided she would sleep for as long as she liked, even though she was so cold she could hear her teeth chatter like a toy drum.

  When Jen heard Danny say, “The cages,” she knew where they were going. Something in her didn’t care. She wanted to crawl over the seat and nestle into Danny’s lap, but something inside of her got in the way, something deep in her, telling her no for every yes she wanted. Instead, Jen sat back in the car, doing her best to comfort herself.

  Jen studied her hands. They looked clean, but they felt dirty. A layer of invisible filth clung to them, and she wondered when the next opportunity to wash them would come. Not soon. Not in the cages.

  Chandler climbed from the floorboards and sat close to Jen. Jen could hear Chandler’s ragged breathing, as if doing that and sitting up was a monumental struggle. Jen wanted to feel sad for Chandler, but Jen was too busy deciding to become a liar.

  A liar. A thing most vile. A thing she never wanted to be. In that moment with her mother obliterated by a Shaky… Oh yes, she’d figured out what happened. Even though Danny had steered her away from a shapeless lump on the street, Jen had recognized the dress it wore. And there was her father…

  Jen held her breath for a moment. Her father. What had become of him?

  She looked at BD, out the window, and at BD again. She could see only the back of his head, a sliver of his face in the rearview mirror.

  Danny, always so loving and kind… Danny wouldn’t look at her, but she couldn’t think on him just then.

  Her eyes on the back of BD’s head, she asked, “Did you kill him?” She emphasized her question with a hard tap on BD’s shoulder. She’d watched her hand do this. She heard the command and control in her voice, but it was an out-of-body experience, as if she watched someone else. Her rational brain didn’t want to hear his answer, but her soul needed it.

  “Yes,” came BD’s blunt answer. “He asked me to.”

  Jen looked out the window again. In her peripheral vision, Danny finally looked at her, frowning with concern, protectiveness, and something she didn’t want to speculate about. She kept her gaze out the window, watching the nothing outside. They were headed to the outskirts of Madam’s territory now.

  “Thank you,” Jen responded flatly.

  A shaking Chandler pushed into Jen’s arms. Jen held her, burying her face into Chandler’s hair and whispering to her. That made Jen think of Suzy. She had done the same with Suzy hun
dreds of times.

  Jen would lie to Suzy. She would lie to Lola about their parents, too. She would lie to anyone who asked about their parents. She would lie from now on and wouldn’t care. She’d even lie to herself if she had to.

  Jen felt absolved and condoned in her new state of deceit.

  When Chandler heard the word, “cages,” all went black. That single word struck her blind, mute, and deaf. The ground fell out from under her, and she could do nothing but be angry with herself. This darkness, this disappearance into an emotional void would not be the way to ruin Nutri-Corp. It would not be the way to get back to a life in The Hills.

  The blackness, the dark emptiness wasn’t the way to win, but it was winning over Chandler. She felt Jen’s arms hold her. She rubbed her face into Jen’s side, drying her tears and doing her best to seem less fragile, but it wasn’t working.

  “It’s almost over,” Jen whispered to her.

  Jen’s warm breath swimming in the strands of her hair should have been a comfort, but Chandler knew Jen was lying. Whatever this was, whatever would happen next wasn’t “almost over,” not by a long shot.

  Lola wasn’t breathing the way breathing should happen. She couldn’t explain it to Manuel or herself, but there wasn’t enough air coming in or going out of her lungs. The pressure of it was biting at her chest.

  With the cool night air whipping around her, the sounds of critters scattering, Lola realized she was experiencing her nightmare of being lost. She wasn’t the one lost; that was Suzy. Losing Suzy made Lola feel hollow and yet also filled with tremulous fear.

  Jacob’s face was suddenly in front of hers. Fear in his eyes, he grabbed her hand, pointed to the sky, pointed to her ears. He cupped his ear and looked at her. His nostrils flared. His cheeks were splotched with red from his exertion. Despite the circumstances, Lola couldn’t help but give Jacob a weak smile. Jacob couldn’t speak, but that did not mean he couldn’t communicate.