Garden : A Dystopian Horror Novel

by Carol James Marshall

  Chandler looked around the kitchen and took a deep breath. The kitchen didn’t have the warm, inviting smells of meals lovingly cooked there. It smelled…industrial, as if continually bleached down. Such a shame. A large, beautiful kitchen like this should smell of chocolate chip cookies, mashed potatoes, and--Chandler inwardly smiled--Sunday pot roast. Real pot roast.

  As soon as Chandler and Jen had entered the kitchen, Danny left with another man, whom he’d called Jeff. He instructed both Chandler and Jen to wait inside while he paid off the Popper who had smuggled them into the city.

  That had been an adventure. Jen and Chandler had freed Robert’s captive, brushed the dirt and other unimaginable filth from him, and he’d led them to his car, abandoned in Old Town when Robert had captured him. He’d hidden them in the trunk of his car and headed for Nutri-Corp City.

  When they reached the city gate, the car stopped at a guard station. As the Popper had explained, Chandler and Jen held their breath. After all, nothing could stop the Popper from handing them over here and now.

  “‘Evening, boys,” the Popper said.

  “Good evening, sir. It’s past curfew,” said a guard in a deep voice.

  “It is, it is. I…” The popper laughed, low and sultry, just two men of the world. “I drank way too much. I woke up not long ago to find myself in the bed of some Popper woman in Old Town. You know how it is.”

  More laughter, some of it from the guard.

  “Lost in the slums for a while were you, sir?”

  “Yes, boys, but Daddy is back home.”

  The guards laughed along with the Popper again. This could be the moment. If the guards didn’t relent and let him in after curfew, the Popper would give them up.

  To Chandler’s surprise the guard said, “Hurry home, sir. And don’t let this happen again.”

  “Believe me, I won’t,” the Popper said.

  The Popper drove them straight to the meeting with Danny, and now they stood in Madam’s kitchen.

  Chandler felt both glee and terror. She was in the monster’s house, and the monster didn’t know it. That monster would ingest both her and Jen given the opportunity, but instead they stood alive and well, ready to fight against her in her own home. Such a delicious thought. Chandler wanted to fight. She wanted to win. They had to win.

  Chandler looked at Jen, who’d taken a seat at the kitchen table, hands placed palms down on its gleaming top, her black hair a tangled web splattered across her face. Jen looked ahead, seeing nothing, her lashes damp, her lips pink and slightly parted. Chandler saw why Danny loved her. Jen was a mess, but a mess that glowed from within. A beautifully lush wreck.

  Chandler had witnessed Danny’s love for Jen the second the trunk opened. His face was a sculpted eruption of worry that marred his gorgeous features. Without even looking at Chandler, he’d reached for Jen at once. He’d pulled her from the car and wrapped himself around her, not caring that the one called Jeff, the Popper, Chandler, and the child watched. Danny had stopped the world at that moment. Chandler knew then Danny would do anything for Jen.

  And she was counting on that...

  Chandler went to the kitchen window and saw Danny shake the Popper’s hand. Whatever Danny had said to him made the Popper beam as if he’d been given a raise and a promotion.

  Danny nodded once, then a second time. With the second nod came a soundless flash, and the popper fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud. Chandler steadied herself with a hand on the kitchen counter, other hand over her mouth to not give anything away to Jen.

  Jeff reappeared as if from nowhere, pushing a wheelbarrow; he looked at the body and grinned at Danny. They loaded the Popper’s body in the wheelbarrow, and Jeff, still smiling, took it away into the darkness. Chandler couldn’t help but feel that Jeff was happy, even chipper about having to dispose of the body. That, she decided, was something best not examined too closely.

  Chandler turned to see if Jen had noticed any of the commotion, but it was the young girl who stood nearby, looking out the window. She had seen it all. She looked at Chandler, then Jen, and back at Chandler. The girl put her index finger to her lips, a clear sign for Chandler to keep quiet. With a smile, Chandler nodded; she hadn’t planned on saying a word about the Popper, and she instantly liked the child, whoever she was.

  Danny’s entrance broke Chandler’s attention from the girl. He went straight to Jen and put an arm around her. With his other hand, he motioned the girl to come to him. He held them both. Both the girl and Jen clung to Danny, the ugliness of their world forgotten for a moment.

  Danny said, “Dolly?” She looked up at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Go to bed. You know what to do.”

  Dolly...thought Chandler. What an odd name.

  “Yes, sir,” the girl responded in a mocking tone, but she smiled at him in that way that siblings did. Not quite the ultimate adoration of a child for a parent, but the indulgent manner of a little sister. On her tiptoes, she kissed Danny on the forehead and whispered, “She’s pretty.” Her eyes went to Jen then she and Danny exchanged a quick smile. The girl left the kitchen, casting a smile back over her shoulder.

  “Your sister!” blurted Chandler. Danny’s head whipped around to Chandler, his expression almost as if he’d remembered she was there. Chandler flushed and added, “She’s your sister, right? I just figured it out.”

  Danny pulled Jen to her feet and smoothed her hair back before kissing her. Taking Jen by the hand, Danny walked to the backdoor. He looked at Chandler with an in-charge expression. “Time to go,” he commanded.

  Danny led Jen and Chandler to an SUV parked to the side of the enormous mansion—led them past guards surrounding the perimeter and past the Nutri-Corp police at the front gate. Danny ushered them into the SUV’s back seat. Jen squirmed and slithered down in the seat, taking little comfort in the tinted windows.

  A hulk of a man sat behind the wheel, his eyes straight ahead, his gloved hands gripping the steering wheel as if it might escape him. Danny slid in the front passenger and turned around with another smile for Jen.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “The ones on shift tonight all work for me. All of them are on my payroll.”

  Chandler decided not to point out if these men could be paid off by Danny, then they could be paid off by Madam or anyone else. Chandler said nothing, but she slid her hand across the seat and held Jen’s. She did this for Jen but also for herself. Jen squeezed Chandler’s hand as the SUV crossed the front gate of the home.

  Chandler looked behind her. The home was massive, like one of those English castles that went on and on with multiple stories and multiple wings. It loomed over the expanse of perfect, green lawn. Bright lights illuminated it; it could probably be seen for miles, perfectly lit for bragging as it was.

  Chandler faced front, taking in the nothing that surrounded them.

  “Where are we?” she whispered to Jen and spotted a large cluster of lights ahead.

  Jen looked up and answered, “Nutri-Corp City.” Her tone was flat, devoid of either awe or contempt.

  “Yes,” Chandler whispered back, “but where in the city?”

  Danny turned around long enough to catch Chandler’s eye. “Madam’s home is outside the city,” he said. “We are now heading straight into the heart of Nutri-Corp City where the elite live and work. Next are the suburbs where the middle class live. After that we’ll reach the outskirts, were the—”

  “Factory workers live,” interrupted Jen, her tone now sneering and sharp.

  Danny cleared his throat. “Correct,” he said. “Where Madam keeps the workers.”

  “Factory workers, janitors, cooks, toilet scrubbers, whores…” Jen rattled on looking out the window. “Until they develop too many tics. When that happens, off to the trash heap of Old Town they go.”

  Danny solemnly nodded, and Chandler was surprised he didn’t disagree or defend Madam, who was his mother. Chandler watched the city lights grow nearer. Why did Danny call his mother Mad
am, as everyone else did? She didn’t expect Madam’s son to be like everyone else. But she didn’t ask him. Instead, she sat up straighter, trying to make a quick study of the city layout, in case something awful happened.

  An image of the cage where they’d kept her in the dark flashed in her memory, an example of the awful things that could await them.

  BD listened to the chatter in the car and kept his hands on the wheel and his thoughts to himself. Madam’s son had paid him off with the promise of freedom. Danny promised he would get BD out of Nutri-Corp City and far away from it when the time was right. BD wasn’t sure if Danny was lying or not, but he, like the other guards assigned to Danny, trusted him to keep his word.

  If there was a way out of Nutri-Corp City, Danny would know it, and BD wanted nothing more than out. He wanted to ride horses again, laugh again, feel the warmth of a cup of coffee in his hands again.

  BD’s tics where almost constant now: a curling and uncurling of his toes. Invisible when he wore his boots, and he always wore his boots. But not invisible to BD, who felt the muscles and tendons of his toes harden with every squeeze they gave. Walking had become painful. It took all of his will to walk without a grimace, to stand without a wince. BD knew if he would have any life without pain he needed to rid himself of YUM. That would relieve his feet of the drumbeat of his tics.

  Lost in thought, BD did nothing but watch the road and think of his toes in his boots. He could feel them even now: curling, straightening, curling, straightening. That was the tradeoff of YUM, the venom Madam had sold to them all. Maybe that was why BD was here now, driving Madam’s son and these women to the outskirts of Nutri-Corp City.

  Escape from Nutri-Corp City was everything BD wanted, but maybe revenge played a role, too. If he could get back at the woman who’d drafted him into her forces, persuaded him to take YUM, and sold his soul for barracks housing, maybe he could start living with himself again.

  The Hills had gone dark years ago. No street lights. Black-outs at night. At first, Chandler had believed the darkness kept them hidden from Nutri-Corp City drones, spies, and the like. Once Chandler got older, she realized that they lived in darkness, using only candles and flashlights behind thick, heavy curtains, because there were no longer enough people around to keep the power plant working twenty-four seven.

  The people of The Hills had stayed in their homes and decided to fight, but many had been lost in battle, taken like Chandler, or lost to the allure of YUM. Chandler wiped a tear from her eye. The glimmer of so many lights in Nutri-Corp City fascinated her and saddened her. A rush of intense homesickness set in. A flutter in her chest began as she tried her best to remember the feel of her own bed, the smell of her own kitchen. Anger bubbled in Chandler, pushing aside the fear and the sadness.

  Why should the people of The Hills live in the dark ages when Nutri-Corp City was ablaze with light? It was unfair.

  The car stopped at a traffic light, and Chandler dared a peek. The sidewalk looked scrubbed clean. A woman stood on the corner, waiting to cross the street. Her white shirt looked stiff with starch. Her perfectly curled hair fell into mermaid waves over her shoulders and down her sides. Her posture was stick-straight as if she waited for a photographer to take her picture.

  Chandler held her breath to keep from gasping. The woman’s legs trembled, shaking beneath her perfectly creased pants.

  This woman was doing all she could to hold in a tic. This woman who looked like a model had to brace herself as best she could against the involuntary movements caused by YUM. An obvious tic Chandler knew would mean unwanted attention from Madam, attention that meant her employer, Nutri-Corp, would toss her out among the other dregs, without a second thought.

  The clarity of the women’s situation sparked foreboding inside Chandler. Letting go of Jen’s hand Chandler slunk off the car’s seat, down to the floor of the vehicle.

  That woman was a prisoner in her own body. How long would she be able to hold that tic in? How long before she could no longer control it? Would she get a warning from Nutri-Corp? Stop ticcing or else? Did she have friends who would tell her when to expect the Nutri-Corp police to drag her away? Was there a cage waiting for this woman, too?

  Chandler felt hands on her shoulders squeezing and releasing over and over. Jen. But Chandler stayed curled up on the floorboard, images of the woman’s trembling legs scrambling her thoughts.

  She heard Danny ask Jen, “What’s wrong?”

  Jen said nothing in reply. Instead, Chandler imagined Jen signaled Danny to be quiet, much as Danny’s sister had signaled to her.

  Chandler’s tears flowed over her cheeks, soaked up by the floorboard carpet. Jen began to rub small soft circles on Chandler’s back, as if she were a child. She must rub Suzy’s back the same way.

  “This city is too clean,” said Jen, breaking the silence in the car and ignoring the fact Chandler lay a sobbing mess on the floorboard. “It’s wrong. Where there are people, there is dirt. It’s like no real people live here.” Jen’s rubbing didn’t stall as she spoke. “Robots live here, not real people. Nothing but Nutri-Corp robots.”

  The car's interior dimmed, causing Chandler to look up and out the window. Where they were now looked more like The Hills—no street light, buildings with dark windows. Jen looked at Chandler, not in a concerned way but deeply sorrowful.

  Jen said, “We are almost there. You can stay down there for a little longer if you need to.”

  Chandler nodded and pressed her face against the floor mat again.

  The car stopped. Doors opened and shut. Chandler didn’t intend to listen, but she did.

  BD looked around then peered into the SUV, seeing one of the women cowering in the backseat footwell. The other one had exited the car with them.

  “What’s up with her, Boss?” BD asked.

  Speaking softly Danny said, “She escaped The Hunt.”

  BD raised his eyebrows, nodded once, with a shiver that went down into his bones. “I’ve heard of that,” BD murmured. “Say no more.”

  BD pointed to a large apartment building to their left. Only a few windows showed a hint of light behind them.

  “Let’s go,” Danny said.

  Suzy sat up on her cot, her mouth feeling glued shut from thirst. Suzy looked around for her sisters but spotted only Lola, crumpled on the couch and snoring softly.

  Suzy stood, tiptoed to the kitchen, and poured herself a glass of water from a jug. She gulped the water down and filled the glass again, holding it in both as if a birthday present she was eager to open. This glass of water was the best thing she’d had in months.

  Something heavy overwhelmed her, and Suzy felt as if she couldn’t breathe, as if something sat on her lungs. Suzy thought of her dolls, buried at the bottom of her toy box. She always thought her dolls looked sad there. Sad because they couldn’t breathe. Still clutching her glass of water, Suzy felt the kitchen constrict around her; she felt like… Like a doll buried under a mountain of toys.

  Outside. She needed to get outside. Outside there might be a breeze, and she could get more air. The trailer was stuffy. Her nose was stuffy. Suzy needed more air. She needed to get out of the toy box.

  Suzy set the glass down and tried to focus on the front door. Her vision blurred, and her head felt as if it didn’t belong to her. She felt hot all over, like she’d been baking in an oven, like those two stupid children who went inside the gingerbread house in that story and the witch cooked them. But outside… Outside, she’d feel better.

  Suzy remembered to be quiet as a mouse when she opened the trailer door. She didn’t want to wake up Lola. Suzy’s fever whispered that Suzy would feel better outside in an open field where breezes were everywhere. It's okay that it’s nighttime. It’s okay that she’s alone.

  Daisy watched Suzy walk away from her trailer and head toward a field Suzy often played in with Jacob, Daisy’s nephew. Suzy didn’t notice Daisy, but she wouldn’t. Daisy had hidden in a shed so she could watch her brother’s traile
r.

  Daisy took a long sip of her tea. She should alert Robert that Suzy was wandering around at night, but he’d have questions.

  “Where were you when you saw her? Why were you in the shed? Did Suzy go north or south? How could you not know directional points? I’ve explained them a hundred times.”

  She wouldn’t be a hero for telling Robert about the girl. He’d only interrogate her, as he had when she’d procured the Gardner camp with Madam’s blessing. She should have been a hero for saving them from Nutri-Corp, and she was for a while. Until Chandler showed up.

  Anger boiled the blood in Daisy’s veins at the thought of Chandler. Daisy had heard the whispers behind her back. Manuel spent all his time sneering at her. It wasn’t fair.

  Daisy had wanted to stay with Megan, now known as Madam. Daisy was happy to be Megan’s maid and take YUM, but her brother showed up, hat in hand and asking for work. Madam was generous and did give him work. And every time he could get his sister alone, he challenged everything Madam was doing.

  Daisy was caught in the middle. She worshiped Madam, hung on every word from her mouth and inhaled the smallest bit of attention she gave Daisy. Yet, her heart pulled stronger for her brother.

  When Madam offered Daisy membership in the control group, how could Daisy say no?

  Suzy disappeared into the tall grass, and all Daisy could feel was a relief. That was one fewer Martinez girl to bother her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Secret Stash

  “Here,” Madam said, pointed to the ground, to each side of her, waving her arms about wildly. Her Nutri-Corp elite lab staff frowned and looked at each other. When they all looked back at Madam, they resembled deer caught in the headlights of a big rig.