Eden Box Set

by G. C. Julien

  He smirks, revealing a sharp white tooth at the corner of his lips. “Justice happened,” he says.

  I’m not sure what he means by this, and I’m about to ask him when he shakes his head and adds, “Turns out Pat Walsh wasn’t the guy we thought he was.” He rubs his scruff and averts his honey-brown eyes.

  For a second, he almost looks hurt by what happened. Did he know this guy, Pat?

  “That lady they took away says he touched her daughter,” he says.

  I stare toward where they dragged the woman away. “Is it true?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know the woman. She just got here. But a mother wouldn’t lie about something like that. And she sure as hell wouldn’t attack a man for it.”

  I’m not sure what to say, so I don’t say anything.

  “It’s a shame,” he says. “Vrin’s been fighting so hard to make sure Elysium only has good people, you know? Both men and women. Then once in a while, we find out some creep or psychopath’s made their way in.”

  “So this has happened before?” I ask.

  “Only twice,” he says. “One time a woman started trying to fight every man she saw. Kept accusing Vrin of allowing demons into this place. Another time it was a guy with anger problems.”

  “What did Vrin do with them?” I ask.

  “Banishment,” he says as if answering a simple mathematical equation.

  I stare at him, taking in his high cheekbones and smooth plush lips.

  “I’m Lucas, by the way,” he says, extending a hand.

  The moment we touch, it’s as though my blood’s turned to warm maple syrup. His hand is strong, though not in an intimidating way, and it makes me feel safe.

  “L-Lucy,” I stammer.

  He smiles again, this time, revealing perfectly aligned teeth.

  “Lucy,” he says, and my name sounds like magic slipping off his tongue. “Wanna see something cool?”

  Without thinking, I nod rapidly. Anything cool sounds like fun right now. I’ve been living in a garden for over five years—I’d say I’m ready to see something new.

  “Come with me,” he says, turning around and heading for the elevators.

  The only time I’ve used those elevators, aside from when I first got here, was to visit the courtyard when Abigail made her way to the fifth floor and asked us to join her. She said it was nice out there and that fresh air would do us some good. Within five minutes, I got bored and wanted back inside. I’m not sure if I’ve offended Abigail. She hasn’t come back to see us, and I don’t even know what floor she’s on.

  As we arrive at the elevator on the farthest right, the one beside it opens up and a woman walks out, bumping into me.

  “Oh, shit… Sorry,” she mumbles.”

  “Freyda?” I say.

  She’s sweating—her whole face is glistening as are her shoulders. She chugs a gulp of water from a stainless steel water bottle, swallows hard, then nods with a smile.

  “H-hey, Lucy!” She swallows again, obviously trying to catch her breath. “How’re you doing?”

  “I’m good,” I say. “Are you okay?”

  She takes another gulp of her water. “I’m good. Just training.” Then, her scrutinizing eyes roll toward Lucas. “Who’s this?”

  How am I supposed to introduce him? As a friend? I barely know the guy.

  “Lucas,” I say.

  “And where’s Lucas taking you?” she asks me, though she’s looking at him.

  “Just showing her around,” Lucas says.

  He doesn’t seem intimidated at all. He smiles at her sweetly and extends a hand. But instead of taking it, she takes another gulp of water and rolls her eyes. “Lucy, if you ever want to learn how to protect yourself”—her eyes roll toward Lucas again as if he’s someone I should know how to protect myself against—“feel free to join us outside.”

  I don’t say anything, so she adds, “And both of you, stay out of trouble.”

  The moment we step into the elevator, Lucas grins at me. “She seems nice.”

  “She usually is,” I say, scratching the back of my neck.

  What’s gotten into her? She’s bolder than usual. The Freyda I know used to follow Eve around without making a sound. She was so rigid all the time. This Freyda, however, seems carefree.

  And where’s Eve, anyway? It isn’t like her to keep a low profile. Should I be worried? Oh God, what’s she planning?

  “You okay?” Lucas asks.

  I swing around when I realize the elevator’s sinking lower than the main floor. Was this a mistake? Is this what Eve warned me about? Is Lucas luring me somewhere to hurt me? Somewhere no one can find me?

  “Where are we going?” I ask, my voice breaking.

  He offers a crooked smirk. “Relax. You’re safe. I’m taking you to Elysium’s Core.”

  “Core?” I ask. “What Core?”

  Without losing his smile, he shakes his head. “Be patient. I’m trying to surprise you.”

  Swallowing hard, I fight the urge to think violent thoughts. It’s as if all the time I’ve spent with Eve over the years has influenced my thinking. She taught me to fear all men and to view them as nothing more than empty shells—weapons to be used solely for the purpose of gaining power through destruction and violence.

  The walls around the elevator are so dark they appear black. But that lasts for a few seconds at most. Now that we’ve sunken deeper into the ground, soft blue pot lights fill the space with a somber atmosphere, worsening my anxiety.

  “Only a few people have access to this place,” he says.

  My heart’s beating out of my chest now.

  What have I done? If he tries to hurt me, no one will be around to hear it. Are there even cameras down here? The elevator doors open without barely making a sound and Lucas steps out. He looks back at me, likely confused that I’m not getting out of the elevator.

  “You okay?” he asks. “You don’t look so good.”

  He’s toying with me—making me feel like he’s nothing but a sweet guy.

  Maybe Eve was right all along… I can’t trust men, or boys, for that matter.

  “Lucy,” he says, taking a step toward me.

  I instinctively step back and regret doing so the moment I do; he looks devastated.

  “A-are you scared of me?” he asks.

  I don’t know what to say. He’s tall, way taller than me. And although he isn’t a man yet, he’s almost there. His muscles are visible through his shirt, veins pop out on his large hands, and he’s already started to grow a beard. It isn’t long—a small shadow—and if I weren’t terrified right now, I’d be focusing on how good it looks on him.

  His eyebrows slant and he looks at the ground. “Listen, I don’t know what you’ve gone through… I have no idea. Maybe you’ve been hurt before. Or, maybe the rumors about Eve Malum are true and you’ve been living in a world where men aren’t even allowed inside.”

  Although I’ve never been hurt by a man before, I saw firsthand how terrified my mom was of Jason. And now, apparently, that psychotic bastard is my dad. To worsen that, all I keep hearing in my head are the stories women used to share in Eden—stories about both physical and sexual abuse. I wasn’t supposed to be listening, but sometimes, it’s hard not to overhear when someone’s whispering, especially when you’ve trained yourself to hear every little whisper. The women would go into every detail about how violent some men got, almost as if having transformed into monsters, and how helpless the women felt. There were good stories, too, but no one was supposed to talk about those.

  “Look,” he says. “You don’t know me, and I respect that. If you want to go back upstairs, we’ll go. No hard feelings.” He offers a sweet smile. “The room I wanted to show you is the second door on the right.” He points down the hall. “Right there. See it?”

  I nod.

  “I don’t know what you’ve heard about guys,” he says, “but I promise you that Elysium isn’t like that. Vrin makes every effort to only let good pe
ople inside. She isn’t shy about banishing or locking up bad people, both men and women. Do you honestly think I’d want to get locked up or thrown out of Elysium and left to rot in the wild?” This time, he laughs and shakes his head. “It isn’t even about not wanting consequences, Lucy. I’d never hurt you. I’d never lay my hands on any girl.”

  He seems honest, and I almost take a step forward.

  But then I think if he did hurt me, how would anyone find out? Maybe that’s why he’s brought me down into this basement.

  “Tell you what,” he says, still smiling. “How about I bring the cool to you?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  He beams and sticks out an open palm. “Wait here!”

  He rushes into the room he pointed at and the sound of shuffling and metal clanging fills the hallway. Finally, he comes stumbling out with a small square-shaped and shiny gadget in his hands.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Something I’m working on.” He sits on the floor and places the small box in front of him. Its sides are glossy black and a small, almost unnoticeable antenna sits at the top.

  “Kind of looks like one of those ancient TVs,” I say, laughing. “But way smaller.”

  He looks up at me, the blue lights overhead making his eyes look almost white. Any other time, I’d have found this to be freaky, but his smile is so attractive that it’s hard to remain afraid of him.

  “That’s the point,” he says. “I’m going retro.”

  Without thinking, I step out of the elevator and walk toward his small creation.

  “So what is it?” I ask.

  He points at the empty space in front of him, which assumedly means, Have a seat.

  “So it’s not perfect yet,” he says. “I’m planning on catching every signal out there. But right now, all I’m getting is France.”

  He presses a button and in an instant, a large blue holographic screen appears between the two of us. The image is a bit choppy, and every time it breaks, I see his face on the other side, so I’m assuming we’re both seeing the same thing.

  “Aides-moi à chercher, mon ami!” comes a brittle voice.

  A giraffe walks in a large grass field, searching for something. Beside the giraffe is a baby hippo that keeps hopping up and down.

  I start laughing even though this is one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen; it’s also the only digital thing I’ve seen in years. So I keep watching, mesmerized by the colors, the sounds, movements. I’m not sure how long we sit there in the dark together, but it must be awhile. Pressed against the hard floor, my body starts to ache, and the show’s turned into something else—some adventure with pandas and koala bears.

  He turns off his small box and picks it up between his thumb and index finger as if holding the last diamond on earth.

  “Pretty neat, huh?” he says.

  I grin, happier than I’ve been in a long time. “That was awesome.”

  “It’s a kid’s channel, but I’m hoping to catch news channels soon.”

  “In France?” I ask. “What for?”

  “Not only in France,” he says. “Everywhere in the world.” He rubs his thumb against his creation’s glossy metal. “We need to know what’s going on out there.” He leans forward, shadows darkening his cheekbones. “Think of Canada, for example. If they weren’t affected by this war, all I’ll have to do is find a way to communicate with them. And then, maybe, who knows… We could go back to living a normal life.”

  I find it hard to believe that Canada is fine, given the fact that five years have passed. But he’s so excited about it I can’t help but feel hopeful.

  CHAPTER 25 – EVE

  Over the last few days, the whispering has gone down dramatically. The women don’t point at me while leaning into their friends’ shoulders. Instead, they glance at one another, at me, and then at each other again.

  Some of them even fidget in their seats, assumedly contemplating whether or not it’s appropriate to approach me. It reminds me of our old world, when a celebrity was spotted eating supper at a local restaurant—Do I, or don’t I ask for an autograph?

  Mary-Anne seems to be the only one who isn’t afraid of upsetting me, and I enjoy her presence in an unusual way.

  She’s easy to control. Every few minutes, I sense her eyes roll my way, though I don’t give her the satisfaction of returning the gaze. If there’s one person I wish would look at me in such a way, it’s Freyda.

  Still, she hasn’t forgiven me for what happened in Eden—for slapping her and accusing her of being a traitor. I don’t blame her for holding on to resentment, but I truly thought that she would have moved past it by now.

  Freyda has always been my other half. And where is she now? Making new friends and building a life without me. Perhaps this only further proves her betrayal. If she truly cared about me, she would forgive me for my outburst.

  When I’ve earned my rightful place as leader of Elysium, she’ll regret having abandoned me.

  “You sure you don’t want to go outside?” Mary-Anne asks.

  She’s been asking me every day to visit Elysium’s courtyard—a common space for all to share. I think what I fear most is coming face-to-face with Freyda, or worse, seeing her smile without my being the cause of it.

  But today, I’m ready to put this behind me. I elevate my chin and look down at Mary-Anne; she practically dances on the spot the moment my stare meets her gleaming eyes.

  “Is… Is that a yes? Are you finally ready to visit the courtyard? The women have been dying to talk to you, Eve.”

  Why haven’t they?

  “They haven’t wanted to bother you while you eat or while you spend time in your room,” she says as if reading my mind. “But the courtyard… You’ll see. It’s where everyone socializes. The fact that you’re stepping out there means you’re one of us, you know?”

  I’ll never be one of you. I swallow back the bile rising in my throat.

  But then I remember something: that’s precisely who I need to be. I need to be one of them. That’s how I’ll win them over.

  I force a smile and squeeze the back of Mary-Anne’s neck. “I would love nothing more than to finally sit down and chat with everyone.”

  She’s so excited now that her gums are showing under her nose and saliva sticks to the corners of her mouth.

  “Oh! Oh! Let’s go!” she says, hopping in front of me.

  She leads me out of the Hub and down a wide passageway illuminated by pod lights. Women turn as I pass them, and some of them even retrace their steps to follow me outside. The doors to the courtyard, two thin slabs of metal, automatically open and disappear into the walls on either side as four women leave the courtyard.

  I catch a glimpse of the outside before the doors close again, and I’m completely taken aback. Mary-Anne’s spent the last several days attempting to lure me to the courtyard by describing its unprecedented beauty—by gloating about how much the outdoor space resembled pure paradise.

  While I should be ecstatic at the prospect of a new garden, it is precisely the reason I haven’t wanted to visit the courtyard. Eden was meant to be our paradise; we were supposed to live in a bountiful space full of vibrant colors, vivid greens, fresh water, an abundance of savory food, and an atmosphere so pleasant that everyone envisioned growing old and dying inside of its walls.

  Instead, resources became scarce, sickness spread like wildfire, and exterior threats became all too prevalent.

  This place… This Elysium… is the true Eden, and I simply have to make peace with that.

  The door suddenly flies open again and sunlight fills the hallway, casting a radiant white light across the floor and along the side walls. Ahead of me, hundreds of women wander about—some aimlessly, others chasing children, and some reuniting with old friends with grand gestures and loud voices.

  I take one step outside, my lungs filling with crisp autumn air. The sun, although not very bright, warms my face and shoulders as I step far
ther away from Elysium’s doors.

  The grass is yellow and dull and somehow reminds me of my childhood. In an instant, I’m taken back to the summer I spent at my aunt’s cottage.

  * * * * * *

  “Eve, get your sister and you girls come inside!” shouts Aunt Peligrina.

  This is translation for, Supper’s ready. I can’t even see Mila—last I saw her, she dived headfirst off the pier and into the deep blue lake water. I’ve never been a fan of lake water myself, but Mila loves it, so I watch her.

  Besides, she’s six years old. It’s not like I can leave her alone. At least not the way Mom does. All Mom seems to want to do lately is leave us alone. Dad left us a few months ago, and ever since, it’s like she’s gone off the wagon. I don’t think that’s the saying.

  Who leaves a six-year-old and a ten-year-old with their aunt over the summer? I mean, I guess it happens enough, but this wasn’t something nice she did for us. It was more of a Here, you take them Peligrina. I don’t know if I’m coming back.

  She didn’t give any of us a return date. For all I know, she’s dead.

  I get that Dad wasn’t always around, but he was good to us when he was. Ever since he left, all Mom does is accuse him of all sorts of things. She’s been talking about it so much that I’m starting to forget what Dad was like. It’s almost like staring at a famous painting and then having someone throw a bunch of oil on it.

  She’s ruining my memory of him and making me hate him.

  And every time I say something along the lines of “I miss Dad,” my mom glares at me and shouts, “He left us!”

  So now, I’m standing outside in a pair of old jeans and one of my dad’s T-shirts without either one of my parents. Instead, I’m left with the responsibility of taking care of my six-year-old sister and hoping she doesn’t drown. The last thing I want to do is jump in that water.

  “Mila, come on,” I shout, and her head resurfaces from the water. The sun reflects off of it, making it look like a never-ending sheet of blue glass, and Mila squints her big wet eyes.

  Any other time, she’d have given me a hard time, giggled, and dunked her head back into the water. But ever since Mom dropped us off here, it’s like she knows how much it’s hurting me and doesn’t want to add to the hurt.