Greenhouse

by Stephanie Mylchreest

  “I could offer to heal anyone who is sick, like I did when we first landed on the mainland,” I suggest, hoping to remind them of my past heroics.

  “You can try but it probably won’t work.”

  “What can we do then?” I ask, frustrated.

  “We’ll get in there somehow,” Millie replies. She doesn’t seem confident but we all agree that we’ve come this far; we might as well press on.

  Chapter Six

  We hurry through the towering trees and broken, crumbling remains of what I suppose were once houses. Knotweed invades every space, its broad, vividly green leaves clawing their way out of every opening. I see what might be remnants of long-forgotten streets and vehicles, corroded by age and destroyed by weather and the re-encroachment of the forest. Plastic—mostly bottles, much unidentifiable, broken glass, saucepans and other oxidizing metal cooking items, some buried, lie everywhere. These items wash up or are dug up on the island too. We collect them and repurpose them when we can.

  The sun is higher in the sky now and we’ve dried completely. I calculate that we have only a few hours to complete our mission before we need to turn back. As we walk, we occasionally hear voices that put us on edge, but we see no one yet.

  The trees gradually thin out and suddenly what is left of the city is fully revealed to us.

  “It’s part forest, part sewer, part… I don’t know what. This place is filthy,” I say to Delphine. Everywhere I look there is garbage. Putrid streams that smell like urine and worse run through the overgrown streets.

  Dotted between the filth, bamboo thickets and mighty oak trees are a number of low-rise stone buildings from before the Great Floods. They are impressive, even in their dilapidated condition. The craftsmanship in the stonework after all these years is exceptional. In between these older buildings, flimsy looking structures have sprung up that seem to go back row upon row with their own maze of paths winding through it all. It reminds me of when Rich, Abigail and me used to make buildings by balancing our playing cards on top of each other. The new city looks like a stiff wind would blow it over. Plant life snakes through it all.

  “It’s a shanty town,” says Millie, watching us take it all in.

  “What’s that?”

  “A ghetto?” she says, raising her eyebrows. I stare at her blankly. She shakes her head and mutters something under her breath.

  I ignore her and stare at the city. The rabbit warren lies in the shadows of the three immensely tall buildings and now I’m closer I can appreciate how precarious they are. Huge holes allow daylight to shine right the way through. Empty window frames stare back at me like unseeing eyes. It won’t be long, it seems, before they too are gone.

  The residents of New York City are as grimy as their surrounds; the people scurrying through the forest ‘ghetto’—as Millie put it—are desperate and brutish. They are heavily tattooed and so unlike anyone on the island they could be an entirely different species. I stare at them. A few of them are staring back at us.

  “Come on Chris,” calls Millie urgently. I realize that both Delphine and I have stopped mid-step and are drawing unwanted attention. Delphine takes my hand and I clutch my shotgun tighter as we follow Millie deeper into New York City.

  We catch up to Millie and walk along a straight dirt road. Piles of rubble and garbage are strewn everywhere. Waist-high weeds spring up from every crevice. A woman is standing in a doorway of a makeshift hovel and she calls out something obscene as we pass. I don’t know where to look and hold Delphine’s hand more firmly.

  I’m glad Delphine has pulled her hair under a cap. Her long blonde hair would attract unwelcome interest in a place like this. I’m nervous and I recite passages from The Book in my head to calm myself.

  Two men approach us and Delphine and I hang back so Millie can deal with them. We both avoid eye contact but I know the men are staring at us, appraising us. One of them is smoking something acrid. My hands sweat.

  “Who are they?” one asks Millie in a harsh, guttural accent, indicating to us with his head.

  “They’re workers on the winery. Helping me on a deal.” Her voice is curt, with an edge of warning.

  The other man steps closer to us, his eyes locked on Delphine.

  “Back off!” barks Millie. Delphine edges closer to me.

  The man reaches out with a filthy hand and touches Delphine’s face. “Hello, sweet thing,” he says. He grabs her behind her neck and pulls her close to him. Delphine resists, pulling back against the man’s arm, a wild look on her face. I pull out my knife at the same time as Millie aims her crossbow at his back.

  “Let go of her!” I yell.

  “I said, back off!” says Millie, at the same time. “If you don’t, this quarrel will find its way between your lungs.”

  The man freezes and looks over at Millie. Delphine, sensing her chance, swivels under his arm and skips to my side. The man curses at Delphine. It appears things might escalate, but he flicks his cigarette at me and walks back to his friend. Begrudgingly, they let us pass, Millie with her crossbow aimed at them until we are out of sight around the next building.

  “Don’t worry,” says Millie. “You both did well just then.”

  We walk through the overgrown, foul streets of New York City towards the library more cautiously now. Delphine’s grasp on my hand is steadfast. I break her grip to wipe my hand on my tunic and then take hold again.

  The further we walk through the city, the more repulsed I am. Small children, dirty and naked, dart between trees and disappear like shadows when we near. We pass a wooden lean-to and when I glance inside, an old, toothless woman grins at me manically. Dogs bark, people yell, and fetid water is running continuously, every which way. The squalor is oppressive.

  Suddenly Delphine stops and lets go of my hand. She pulls out her notebook. I call out to Millie and she comes back to where we are standing, shaking her head. “Don’t stop out here in the open,” she says. She pulls us into an alley that runs between two buildings. I notice the ever-present knotweed bursting through the walls beside me.

  Once we are secreted away from the main street, Delphine writes and passes over her notebook.

  I have a plan!

  “Well, what is it?” asks Millie impatiently.

  Delphine smiles and writes out the details of her plan. Millie and I read Delphine’s notebook over her shoulder and Millie smiles. We talk through the specifics and debate a few minor points. I feel a small flicker of hope.

  “This could work you know,” I say, and put my arm around Delphine and hug her close.

  Millie leads us the rest of the way until the library becomes visible through the trees. It’s possibly the most beautiful building I’ve ever seen. It’s ancient, built well before the Great Floods. Stone pillars and a sweepingly high roof frame an enormous space. Two white stone lions mark the entrance. The lions are vivid and vital; proud, flowing manes and sinewy muscles seem to burst from the taciturn stone.

  “It’s been well maintained,” whispers Millie from our vantage point across the street and behind a huge oak tree. We watch for only a few moments. We are all aware that time is running out.

  “Two men are guarding the entrance. They are both armed with large guns,” I say.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? They could shoot you as you walk past,” says Millie.

  Delphine nods her head: yes. There’s no turning back now.

  “Good luck,” says Millie.

  Delphine squeezes my hand and my nerves are at breaking point as we say goodbye to Millie. I can’t believe I agreed that we should split up.

  We stroll towards the library as if we belong here. As we approach the entrance, one guard stares at us and casually turns his gun, training it on my chest. I notice he has the same swirled tattoo on his skull as the man who robbed us earlier, but he’s taller and more muscled. The guard raises his eyebrow at me. He also has the same reckless expression on his face as the thief.

  “He’s going to sh
oot us right here on the street,” I mouth to Delphine. She grips my hand tighter. Her message is clear: keep going.

  As we walk in front of the library, there is the whistle of a quarrel flying through the air and then a cry of shock. Millie has struck her target. One guard lies fallen on the ground. Another quarrel flies towards us and strikes the wall next to the second guard and drops to the ground. Delphine and I rush up the stairs.

  “Quick. Get inside, attack!” I yell, my voice quivering with fear and adrenaline. The guard with the fully tattooed skull isn’t injured, and he swings his gun in our direction. He looks ready to fire. Delphine and I throw our hands in the air and fall to our knees.

  We are going to die!

  “We need to get inside. I can help your friend. I’m a healer. Quickly, before they shoot at us again.” My heart is pounding in my chest.

  The second man is writhing in pain on the ground, clutching his leg. His skull is shaved and has the beginnings of the now familiar tattoo ringing his head like a macabre halo. The quarrel protrudes sickeningly from his calf. The first guard is evaluating us as another quarrel glides towards us, just missing my head. I swear and drop to the ground, silently thanking Millie for her tactical maneuver.

  “Help him.” The guard motions to the injured man with the end of his gun and I understand Delphine and I are to assist him into the library.

  The guard is scanning the street, sweeping the barrel of his gun back and forth. We drag the fallen man inside. I don’t have the time or presence of mind to look around once we are inside but I sense the vastness of the room. The first guard keeps his gun on us but yells out an alert to his comrades. I stay focused on the injured man. I know we don’t have long.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Delphine softly. She nods. “Pass me the bandage please.” She passes a bandage from my medical kit and I appraise the wound. Millie has done a good job. The quarrel is lodged in the surface of his fleshy muscle and there is not much bleeding. I don’t hesitate and pull the quarrel swiftly from his leg then immediately compress the wound with the bandage. The man’s scream brings the attention of his friend, who picks up the quarrel and examines it.

  I’m sure there is a moment of recognition on his face as he turns the quarrel in his hands, but I turn my attention back to my patient. I remove the bandage and examine the wound. The man could use stitches but I don’t have time, so I apply a small quantity of healing balm instead. I’m wrapping it up when I smell smoke and hear the cry: “Fire!” I smile to myself. Millie has done us proud.

  Smoke is billowing into the front room and I know the moment is now. I lean in to whisper to the man: “Keep it dry, change the bandage, you’ll be okay,” before I leap to my feet and run to Delphine who is gesturing from a staircase to my right. We run up the stairs. The moment before the room behind me is out of sight, I turn: it’s magnificent. Towering white stone walls and arched windows look down on a stream of heavily armed, tattooed men lugging buckets of water towards the smoke. No one has noticed us slip away. We are inside!

  We race up three flights of stairs and twist and turn down corridors, always veering away from any voices. I wonder for a moment how we will ever find our way out; when suddenly we stumble into the largest, quietest room I have ever seen. Delphine and I both stop and stare, taking in the wonder. The ceiling is high and the whole room is bathed in golden sunlight. There are clouds painted on the ceiling. Books line every wall and shelves hold thousands—maybe millions—more. It’s wonderful.

  Delphine elbows me; a woman is approaching us. We both try to calm our labored breathing. Delphine straightens her clothes and smiles warmly at the woman. I’m nervous, but the woman doesn’t have a gun. She is neat and clean, the same age as my mother, and wears pristine white gloves. She doesn’t fit in with the gang members outside. I wonder briefly where she is from.

  “Hello, has Jean Pierre sent you?” she asks us in a polite voice.

  “Yes,” I stammer. “We are here to locate a resource on the polar ice sheets and global sea levels.” The woman furrows her brow. I prepare myself for the worst. But instead of challenging us, she smiles.

  “Come this way. Sit here.” The woman indicates to a long wooden table. “I’ll be right back.”

  We watch her stride purposefully away before taking a seat. Delphine drums her fingers nervously. I catch her eye and glance down at her hand. The drumming stops and she chews her fingers instead. After several moments, the woman comes back with a small pile of books. I point to Delphine, who takes them with a delighted smile.

  “Will these do?” She asks. Delphine thumbs through the pile and then smiles sweetly at the woman.

  “Thank you,” I say. The woman points to the other end of the room. “Go through those doors and turn right. One of my colleagues will make a note of your purchase and you can pay him directly. Thank you.”

  We head off in the direction she has pointed. We get halfway across the great room when I turn back. The woman is gone. The place is unnervingly quiet. No one else seems to be here, which surprises me. Perhaps they are all busy with the fire. I imagined the books would be better guarded but I guess most thieves don’t get past the front door.

  Delphine and I drop to the ground and crawl back the way we came, using shelves and desks as cover. Someone comes into the room when we are halfway back to the door. I motion for Delphine to stop and I pause, trying to make out the conversation. The voices are muffled and I can’t make sense of them.

  I risk peering over the desk we are hiding behind. It’s the massive tattooed man who was guarding the front of the library! My pulse is hammering in my ears as I silently mouth what I’ve seen to Delphine. I raise my head again in time to see the woman gesture to the door we were supposed to go out. The tattooed man runs in that direction and the woman hurries after him.

  “Delphine, they know we are here and that we have the books. It won’t be long before they realize we didn’t go that way and are back looking for us in force. When I give the signal, I want you to run towards the door and back down the stairs. Don’t go back to the main entrance. We need to find a side exit and get out of here.” I look over the table one last time. The vast room is now empty. “Go!” I say.

  We both run to the first door we came through. Delphine has given me half the books and I hold them close to my chest. As we near the door, there is a section marked “General Reference”. They have left a slim book out on top of the shelf and I grab it and tuck it, together with the other books, under my arm. Delphine seems puzzled. I’ll explain to her later but these books are valuable. It might be good to have something to barter with in the future.

  We leave the main book room and head down the stairs. I’m taking two stairs at a time and our footfalls echo loudly in the stairwell. We stop on the first floor and run blindly down a corridor, searching for another set of stairs to take us to the ground floor and hopefully an exit to the street.

  Delphine points to some stairs just as I hear voices. I take her arm and we freeze. There’s a door a few steps away. We quietly slip through the doorway and I gently close us inside until we are enveloped in darkness. What sounds like three or four people run past, their voices raised. Holding my breath, I will them away. Once the footfalls fade, I whisper in the gloom, “It sounds like they’ve gone.”

  I have a moment to take in the room. It’s small and dimly lit and has more books lining the shelves. I requisition another book by selecting one at random from the shelf closest to me. Delphine does the same and then I open the door cautiously. The corridor is empty. We steal slowly down the stairs and for once, it seems luck is on our side. There in front of us is a door that leads directly outside.

  Delphine reaches the door first and her reaction tells me it’s locked. Through an arch-shaped window next to the door I can see the overgrown squalor, which beckons to us like paradise. I try the handle again but it won’t turn. Frustrated, I kick the door and a loud bang echoes down the corridor. Delphine looks at me with frig
ht in her eyes.

  There are new voices now that are getting louder, closer. I see a wooden chair several paces down the hall. I pick it up, praying all the while, and swing it as hard as I can through the arched window. The glass shatters immediately on impact and the chair bounces through the window frame and comes to a rest outside. The noise of the breaking glass could not have gone unnoticed. There’s not a moment to waste! I help Delphine through the window, take her by the arm and we run. Gunshots explode loudly behind us but we don’t look back.

  We are several blocks away before we stop running. Delphine pries my hand from her arm. I hadn’t realized I was holding her so tightly. We are both breathing heavily, and I double over, pressing my hands against my legs. No one has pursued us. Tears prick my eyes and I pull Delphine close. For a moment I hold her, then I push my lips roughly against hers. She kisses me back, and suddenly everything is spinning and we are back at the revel. It’s just the two of us. I forget our mission for just a moment and lean in.

  Delphine breaks away first. I take her hand and kiss it briefly, noticing the blood there. “Let me see. What happened?” I say, but she shakes her head. We have to hurry.

  We carry the books under our coats and hustle, weaving through a thicket of oaks strewn with garbage. Millie has our weapons so we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. We change direction frequently, slinking from building to building with our eyes down. When we finally reach the outskirts of the city, I feel a huge sense of relief.

  “There are the remnants of the brown stone houses up ahead,” I tell Delphine.

  As we get closer, Millie steps out from the shadows. “I’ve never been so glad to see someone in my life,” she says, hugging us both. “Did you get what you need?”

  Delphine and I both reach under our coats and pull out the books, huge grins on our faces. Millie hugs us again.

  “I’m so proud of you both! I was so worried when I shot the burning quarrels at the building you would both end up fried! Great plan, Delphine.”