Garden : A Dystopian Horror Novel

by Carol James Marshall

  Shifting his weight from his left leg to his right, Danny didn’t know what to do. Should he go to the people in the cages let them know that he planned to save them, but they’d have to wait a bit longer to be released?

  What if, Danny thought, I don’t make it back? What if he gave them hope but couldn’t fulfill his part of the bargain? He stepped away from the door. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t hand over the hope of salvation without the true knowledge that it would be there.

  He’d promised Jen that he’d save them. He intended to save them, but there were too many variables. There was too much that could happen. Wasn’t it better to leave them to the despair that they were already in?

  He didn’t know. Crumbling the oatmeal package into his hands, he shoved it into his pocket. He’d throw it out far away, somewhere where a food package couldn’t be found. He went back to the SUV and headed home.

  Danny shook his head at a Nutri-Corp billboard towering over the entrance to Nutri-Corp City. He’d like to see every single one of his mother’s billboards burn to the ground.

  Daisy’s first thought as sunlight hit her eyelids was why did her face feel tight? Her nose felt stretched, and her tongue seemed to obstruct the back of her throat. She tried to lift her hands to feel what her face had become but couldn’t, and she knew all that she had ever been was now lost.

  Daisy had once been a tidy woman who had a great job and a nice car. Now she was tied, gagged, and sentenced in one of Robert’s Popper cages, cages that for so long, too long, she had pretended not to know or care about. Cages that sat next to Robert’s Popper graveyard of fails, where Robert had buried all the Poppers he tried to save. She had tried to tell him there was no saving Poppers, but he wouldn’t buy that. Robert believed himself a saint, and she was nothing but a step on his way up to his godly throne.

  Daisy’s gag was painful and purposely tied too tight around her face. Now aware and awake, the pain from the gag taunted her but not as much as the thirst she was also painfully aware of. The need for water surged through her as she lay in anguish, knowing that soon the dirt of the cages would overtake her. She’d inhale the dirt, absorb it, and soon it’d be in her lungs, blood, and thoughts.

  She was once a tidy woman.

  “I was wondering if I could have Friday off.”

  Daisy tapped her fingertips against Megan’s desk and caught herself doing so when Megan stopped her work and looked down at them. Daisy stopped tapping.

  “You see, Ms. Megan...”

  “Madam,” Megan corrected with a hint of annoyance. “I’ve told you to call me Madam.”

  Daisy furiously nodded, readying herself to squeak out an apology. Megan raised her hand and said, “You can have Friday off. I have work to do. Go keep yourself busy.”

  Daisy left the room then, quickly, tail tightly tucked between her legs, ears down. Why did she feel like Megan’s… like Madam’s dog?

  Sniffing, Daisy tried to stop crying, but the vision of Megan’s face stuck in her mind. That day, she had looked so annoyed with Daisy. Her brother Robert had always looked at Daisy the same way. Lately, Manuel, Robert’s husband, looked at Daisy as if she was gum stuck to his shoe. Whatever she did, it was always wrong. Why didn’t anyone ever appreciate her and what she’d done? She’d saved everyone here.

  Twisting her hands, Daisy tried to free herself. She desperately needed to stand, but Robert had tied her feet as well. Her brother must truly hate her.

  “I don’t understand why you are sending me away? I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me.”

  Daisy looked soulfully at Megan. Nutri-Corp City was finally coming to life. She had helped Megan and her son move into a new home. Daisy had worked so hard to swallow the YUM pills to...

  Megan ran a hand over Daisy’s cheek. Her fingers were ice cold and for a second Daisy thought she’d use one of her long nails to pluck out one of Daisy’s eyeballs. She shivered at that thought as Megan kissed Daisy on the cheek, running a hand down Daisy’s arm.

  “I need my most trusted friend to keep track of this group. I need a group outside of the city.” Megan’s fingers slithered their way into Daisy’s hand, holding it in a bone-breaking grip.

  Daisy stayed limp, reminding herself to stay soft with Megan...Madam, to never let Madam see her flinch.

  Nodding, Daisy let a “why” slip out.

  Madam released Daisy’s hand and stepped close to Daisy’s side. She lay her arm over Daisy’s shoulders and led her to the back room of her new home. Daisy’s room. Being Madam’s maid she kept Daisy close. Something that Daisy, until that day, had loved.

  “It’s a control group,” Madam responded, giving Daisy a quick shove into her room. Daisy stumbled in but did not trip. She turned to look at Madam, an apology hanging on her lips. Madam went on, “But the what, why, and how is nothing you should concern yourself with. All you have to do is be a great friend and do as I say.”

  Daisy had sat on her bed, admiring how tightly she’d tucked the sheets when she’d made her bed that morning. She was a tidy woman.

  Daisy remembered the click of the lock on the door as Madam had closed it that day. That click was like a warning shot, but Daisy had ignored it. That wasn’t the first time Madam had locked Daisy in her room.

  Closing her eyes, Daisy could hear the word “friend“ roll off Madam’s tongue, over and over. How many times since they had met? Daisy had fallen for it then, and she knew she’d fall for it again and again, even though the word friend from Madam’s mouth was all Saccharin, a fake sugar-sweet used only to fool the palate.

  Daisy’s body urged her to squirm. Her mouth wanted to scream. Her mind raced. The sunlight was now hitting her right in the eyes, making them water. Daisy blinked trying to stop the water from dripping over her cheeks; it would only smear the dirt on her face. She shoved herself forward hoping to catch a bit of relief from the shade of a tree near her cage when a shadow slid across her face. She knew that shadow.

  Daisy opened her eyes and sucked in a breath when she saw Manuel peering at her. He showed no surprise; he knew this was coming. Maybe, Daisy thought, he orchestrated it.

  Manuel looked to his left, stretching his head to see. He looked back at Daisy. He rubbed his face as if that would take away what he had seen. Daisy didn’t beg him for help. She didn’t respond to his presence. She held steady, waiting for him to leave.

  She hadn’t reacted when Madam had locked her in her room either. She sat. She waited. That is what she’d have to do here.

  Manuel left without a word to her. Daisy lay on her back, then flipped herself over to she could see what Manuel was looking at. Not far away was another cage, and every time the tarp flapped in the morning breeze, Daisy could see glimpses of bare feet zip-tied at the ankles.

  Robert stared at his husband. Manuel lay like a lump on the couch, red clay dirt clinging to his pants, boots, and face. He had bothered to take off his shirt before laying down, and for that Robert was glad. He couldn’t help but smile at his mess of a husband. A mess, no doubt because he had looked for Suzy all night. Robert wanted to know if they had found the girl but wouldn’t wake Manuel to find out. Robert sat where he could watch Manuel sleep, and he assumed their son Jacob slept as well.

  He took the note from his pocket, the one his sister tried to hide from him.

  The note was treason. The note was malicious. The note was nothing else but Daisy. His sister, his dear sister, who had always helped him and everyone else with one breath while yelping with the other. She had bitten every hand that fed her. Her alliances were not sold but given freely away to Madam.

  What did Madam have over his sister?

  He rose and headed to their bedroom. Robert opened the closet, dug out an empty shoe box, and tossed the note in there. This box was his backup plan. If the Gardeners were ever to accuse him of killing his sister in cold blood, he’d show everyone her sins.

  Not that he had killed her. Yet. He had started the box years ago, knowing tw
o things to be true. One was that Daisy was and would always be a villain, and that one day he’d kill her because of it.

  Robert pulled off his clothes, grabbed a towel, and went to their outdoor shower stall. He needed to wash off Daisy’s stench before Manuel woke up. The water invigorated him, and he welcomed the memories from last night: picking up his unconscious sister after drugging her, carrying her outside to place her in his trusty wheelbarrow, and carting her off to his Popper camp.

  The smart thing to do would have been to deal with her then. It would have been so easy to suffocate her while she was unconscious, but part of him wanted the joy of knowing Daisy would wake up to discover herself tied and gagged, of her knowing he’d taken her down several notches.

  Danny watched Dolly sleep. He needed to wake her, but he also needed to do it in a way that she would wake silently.

  Open your eyes, look at me, don’t make a sound, Danny thought, staring at her.

  Danny had watched the house for hours, waiting for signs of movement. He had watched his mother drive off on her own in the early hours. She never did that. Madam never drove herself anywhere. Danny’s mental caution lights flickered as he watched her drive away, but he ignored them.

  Now was his chance, maybe his only chance to get to Dolly. The sun was about to come up, and he needed to get his sister and go. Now.

  He touched the tip of her nose with his finger, the slightest of nose bops. Dolly’s eyes opened, and she smiled when she saw Danny, who immediately put his finger to his mouth to shush her. Dolly nodded. Danny raised a backpack he had been holding. She had it packed, ready, and innocently placed next to her dresser. Hidden in plain sight.

  “We go now,” Danny whispered. Dolly jumped from her bed to pull a dress and a pair of shoes from her closet. She was dressed in seconds, and Danny looked over her dress and shoes. For this escape, she needed something more practical, but she had nothing more practical. Madam dressed Dolly as she’d named her: something pretty to be placed in a corner and admired.

  Danny shouldered Dolly’s backpack and took her by the hand.

  When Danny opened the kitchen door, he came face to face with Dolly’s nanny. He put his fingers to his lips, locking eyes with her. Shaken, the woman said nothing because her mouth at that moment was full; she was eating. Eating was a capital offense in this household--unless of course, you were a guest at one of Madam's dinner parties.

  The nanny’s eyes took in the backpack and Dolly. Neither she nor Danny knew what the other would do. Danny motioned for her step to aside, and she did. He heard Dolly whisper, “Thank you” as they walked by. He thought they were in the clear until he felt a hard tug on his shirt.

  “Take me with you.”

  Maria had reached for Danny out of panic, before she could stop herself. When her grip on his shirt tightened, she knew he’d have to kill her before she’d let go. He’d have to end up dragging her through the house, across the yard, to the car, and she wouldn’t let go.

  Maria had come to America from the Philippines wanting nothing more than to work, educate herself, and bring her family here. With a heavy heart, she had left her family behind and had come here for a better life, but not this life.

  She had suffered. Working all day as a janitor, going to nursing school at night, all while sleeping in her car, but she became a nurse. She got a good job, brought her sisters here. They hadn’t had to suffer like she did. They’d gotten good jobs, too, and worked their way through college, too, until they all proudly held degrees. Together, Maria and her sisters bought a house, a home in the United States. Next, they would bring their aging parents, retire them from working, care for them in their loving home.

  Then, YUM happened.

  Like an evil spirit, YUM crawled its way into Maria’s life, picking away the things she cared for, things that she had worked hard to achieve.

  All had been well. Until YUM. Until Madam.

  One by one, she and her sisters had succumbed to YUM’s temptation. And one by one, they were taken away, put in the factory. Except for Maria. In reality, she was the unlucky one, the one Madam selected to work in her house, her shiny prison.

  Madam never failed to tell her how lucky she was to be in the house. So, Maria spent her days cleaning and watching Madam's daughter wallow in this house as she did. There was no TV, no music, no sisters, no love; only day after day staring at walls, wiping down counters, and worse.

  Maria ate the leftovers of Madam’s dinner parties.

  YUM didn’t fill her, didn’t work on her, no matter how much she prayed that it would. She took the YUM every day, and every day it did nothing. Maria starved, until she snuck the leftovers from the parties. She hid them in the house, daring to only eat one or two swallows at a time to help her stay alive.

  Alive enough to see her sisters again.

  At every dinner party, Maria also snuck a small cup of medicine when Cook or Cook's helper wasn’t looking, and she hid it with the food. After all, Maria knew what Madam served at her dinner parties. Maria had seen the torsos, arms, and thighs laid upon the counter or on a cutting board as if a freshly killed hog.

  Every day when the sun would come up, Madam would leave, and Maria would wet her tongue with the medicine before taking one or two swallows of what Madam served her people. This was how she had survived day after day.

  But no more, Maria thought as she tightened her hold on Danny. This boy would take her wherever he was going. Or she would raise a ruckus the guards couldn’t ignore.

  Dolly’s hand shot out, and she took her nanny’s hand in hers. Dolly walked ahead of Danny. Nodding, the nanny let go of Danny’s shirt. The three of them tiptoed across the driveway into Danny’s car and out through the front gate. Neither Dolly nor Maria had noticed the guards lying in a crumpled mess on the grass behind the shrubs.

  Danny didn’t bother to notice the guards either. He had put them there.

  The only one to notice the guards was Sir. As well, he’d noticed the nanny leave with his daughter and stepson, but he did nothing.

  Instead, Sir sipped his morning coffee. He kept a coffee maker in his and Madam’s bedroom, as if it was the dirtiest of their secrets to be kept hidden from the eyes of everyone. Coffee was the only thing that Madam believed Sir did not give up.

  Watching the back end of the car disappear beyond the view from his window, Sir mentally wished his daughter the best of luck. He checked the clock. They had plenty of time to escape before Madam became wise.

  Madam. Not her real name. Sir. Not his real name either. Madam and Sir were both ridiculous nicknames she had forced on him. He often wondered if in her mind they weren’t nicknames at all but titles, something she’d have engraved on her headstone for all to revere.

  He missed hearing his old name spoken by anyone. He was fond of it. It was a good, solid name.

  Indeed, he missed his old life before he was given the duty of being Madam’s husband. He poured another cup of coffee.

  Madam ran the tip of her finger across Mathew’s hand. Looking up at him, she smiled, a true grin, something she kept hidden, never allowing it to see the light of day. Mathew was the one, the only one to whom she divulged all her truths. Mathew knew everything of her. He was the one thing she counted on in her life for everything she was and would become.

  Her love for Mathew wasn’t something typical or physical. She had never done so much as give him a quick hug or dare to mark his cheek with a lipstick peck, despite her desire to do so.

  Her love for Mathew came from his skill for living in the underbelly of Nutri-Corp. Mathew planned every move she made, made sure her achievements took precedence. He was the one making sure YUM slowly inched its way across the land. Because of Mathew, Madam had recently taken California and Arizona from the great US of A.

  Mathew, her best-kept secret and ally.

  Outside of town in an old shed, Madam and Mathew met each morning. No matter what she did, he always arrived first. Every morning Madam’s heart wou
ld leap when her eyes captured the shadow of him as she walked to the shed.

  Every morning she was grateful for him.

  Mathew knew every spy in Nutri-Corp City, every misdeed, every breath everyone took. What surprised her and endeared her the most about Mathew was his ability to see beyond the walls of Nutri-Corp City. In his brilliance, he always knew what their next move and how they’d capture their next town.

  This morning Madam smiled at Mathew and waited for him to begin their morning briefing. She allowed him to speak first; she conceded him that one dominance to keep him beside the armrest of her imaginary throne.

  “We’ll start moving into Mexico next week,” Mathew said. “As we discussed, I introduced YUM at the border two weeks ago. I purposely stopped distribution there yesterday. There are already messages begging for more.”

  “I owe my growth to you,” Madam said, taking Mathew’s hand in hers. “We will dominate. We will rule, you will see.” Madam felt such pride, then. Pride in his skill for infiltration. Pride in his unwavering commitment to her.

  “Perhaps," he responded. Mathew never confirmed anything she had ever said to him. But today, Madam felt tension rise in her back. She didn’t let go of his hand, even as she trembled. There was something coming, some bad news on the tip of his tongue. She could sense it and could feel its ominous presence tickle the back of her neck.

  “Tell me,” Madam replied, not wanting to pretend all was well. She pretended everything with everyone, but not with him. Not her Mathew.

  “Jug found three tourists wandering Old Town. He took them to the cages.”