Garden of Fiends

by Matthews, Mark

  “Come, baby, come. Come and succumb. Succumb to the forever.”

  Static shot into his ear and he dropped the cell phone. He stared at it, waiting for the phone to transform into a spider, but it remained inanimate. The corpse on his couch also remained inanimate. He couldn’t decide if these were positive or negative developments.

  He scavenged the rest of the dope from the coffee table and cooked it up. He sat on the couch next to Nick, who didn’t seem to mind his company. The blood had dried on the cushion and it stuck to his bare ass. Somewhere outside the apartment, a garbage truck lifted a dumpster, blasting a series of beeps through the silence.

  He dug the remote out from under the couch and flicked on the TV. A daytime court show was playing. Someone screamed at someone else about a dented car. The judge slammed a gavel and winked at the camera. An audience whistled and cheered. Jeremy laughed, although he wasn’t sure why.

  The syringe burned his hand, weighing it down. Either use it or lose it, it seemed to say.

  So he used it.

  All of it.

  It didn’t occur to him until an hour later that now that it was all gone he’d have to go back out and buy more, and it didn’t occur to him until three hours later, once he finally motivated himself enough to get dressed and walk outside, that he’d used the remainder of his cash on the previous dose. Which meant he had to drive to the bank. Suddenly he regretted registering an account with a bank built exclusively inside Walmarts.

  “Fuck,” he said, and got in his car.

  11.

  Amy spotted him as soon as he walked through the entrance. Like she’d camped out in front of the store and was waiting on him.

  “Oh my God, Jeremy, what happened to you?” Her wide eyes traveled up and down his body. He followed her vision and discovered the crotch of his jeans had birthed a new bloodstain. At a glance, it didn’t even look like blood. Just a dark splotch easily mistaken for piss. But if you looked closely, you’d notice a shade of red in the splotch. By the way Amy stared at him, she’d already detected the red.

  He held up both hands, trembling, and tried to block her from continuing forward. “I’m just here to withdraw some cash from my bank account. Then I’m gone.”

  “But—but what happened? You just disappeared, dude. Everybody’s freaking out.”

  “I had something to do.” He stepped around her and headed toward the bank.

  She followed closely behind. “You had something to do?”

  He nodded, eyes ahead, refusing to look at her and offer the delusion of encouragement.

  “Dude, stop.” She grabbed his shoulder and he turned around, gritting his teeth. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “I don’t have time to talk about it.”

  “So make time.”

  “Make time?” Jeremy laughed and the air between their bodies rippled like pebbles skipping across a pond. “I can’t make time. No. Time makes me. Time makes us.”

  Amy frowned. “Will you please come sit down with me so we can talk?”

  “There is nothing to talk about.”

  “Please.”

  Jeremy debated just shoving her away and continuing into the bank, but figured he’d never get rid of her. Fatigue had also worked its devilish way into his bones during the drive to Walmart, and sitting down for a spell sounded awfully appetizing. He allowed her to lead him into the McDonald’s and they collapsed into a booth behind two garbage cans, where managers passing by wouldn’t automatically notice their rogue presence.

  Just sitting in the booth, he found it difficult to keep his head up. He rested both elbows on the table and buried his jaw into his palms as a last resort. He knew Amy sat across from him, staring, but his blurry vision couldn’t quite clear enough to focus on her.

  “Talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to say.”

  “Are you using again?”

  “What? No. Jesus Christ.”

  “I’m sorry—it’s just—you randomly leave work and nobody hears from you for several days, then you just show up in the middle of the afternoon, looking like shit, talking about withdrawing cash—what else am I supposed to think?”

  “You’re not supposed to think...a goddamn...thing.” Jeremy cleared his throat and nearly choked on built-up phlegm. He looked around the restaurant and blinked hard into the overhead fluorescent lights. Something wet dripped down his cheeks. “This is none...of...your business.”

  “I’m just concerned, is all. Something’s obviously going on.”

  “Nothing’s going on.”

  “Are...are you bleeding?” The blurry blob in front of him leaned forward. “I saw your pants.”

  “Everybody bleeds.”

  “What?”

  “Show me one person who hasn’t bled.”

  “I think you might be sick.”

  Jeremy laughed. “You want to see?”

  “See?”

  “You want to see where I’m bleeding?”

  “Uh. Okay.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand and yanked her out of the booth. She didn’t protest as he led her out of the McDonald’s and to the back of the Walmart. They pushed their way into the family, single toilet bathroom and locked the door. His vision had started returning and he saw the puzzlement and fear across his coworker’s face. It did not shame him but instead fueled him onward.

  “You sure you want to see?”

  “I think maybe we should just go to the hospital.”

  “Only thing a hospital’s good for is filling out paperwork.”

  “Jeremy—”

  “Do you want to see or not?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yes. Show me.”

  Jeremy hesitated. “All right, but just remember, you asked for this.” He unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, not breaking eye contact with her. He couldn’t bear to look down and see what fresh horror awaited him. And judging from Amy’s expression, he’d chosen wisely to direct his vision elsewhere.

  “Had enough?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You sure?”

  “God. Please.”

  “All right.”

  He pulled his pants back up. She still stared, mouth agape, shaking. A part of him felt relieved that he hadn’t been hallucinating all this time. What was happening to him, it was real, it was all real. Even Nick, back at Jeremy’s apartment, flayed out on the couch. Jesus Christ. He’d really killed him, hadn’t he? Gutted him open like a fish. And for what? For, for...for Eliza? What did she have to do with any of this? Ever since she made him bleed, reality failed to make an ounce of sense. Everything inside his head seemed to swirl into a devious fog. He couldn’t trust any of it. He couldn’t even trust himself.

  “Wh-what happened?” Amy’s voice dragged him back to the bathroom.

  “I’ve been bleeding lately.”

  “But—but why?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just something that’s been happening.”

  “You need to see somebody.”

  “I’m seeing you.”

  “I mean, a doctor.”

  “I have.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And...?”

  “He told me it was a burst blood vessel.”

  “A burst blood vessel?”

  “Yeah.”

  She shook her head and stepped forward. Fear on her face, body shaking, but still forcing herself toward him. “What you just showed me can’t be some blood vessel. What you just showed me, holy shit, Jeremy, it’s like a horror movie, it’s like a crime scene.”

  “There’s something else.”

  Amy stopped. “Something else.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Something else like what?”

  “Spiders.”

  “Spiders?”

  “This isn’t a goo
d idea. I gotta go.” He tried maneuvering around her, but she sidestepped in front of the door and held both arms out.

  “What about spiders?”

  “Get out of my way.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere, dude. You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think I am.”

  “I will throw you across this fucking bathroom. Move.”

  Her cheeks caved in. An invisible punch to the face. She stood her ground. “Jeremy. Tell me about the spiders.”

  He considered striking her down. It’d be so easy just to grab her head and snap her little neck. Like cracking a tree branch in half. He grabbed his hair on both sides of his skull and pulled and gritted his teeth and paced the bathroom. Goddammit. Goddammit.

  “Jeremy...”

  “They’ve been crawling. Crawling out of me.”

  “The spiders?”

  “Yeah, the spiders.”

  “They crawled...out of you?”

  “That’s what I fuckin’ said, ain’t it?”

  “Like, from your mouth or what?”

  He stopped pacing and looked down at his wet crotch, then back at her. She stared at him, horrified, and mouthed the word “no”.

  He nodded. Almost experienced a sick satisfaction in witnessing someone else embrace the reality of his situation.

  “How many?”

  “I lost count.”

  “Oh, god.” She gagged.

  Welcome to the club, he wanted to say, but kept quiet. Let her cope her own way.

  She waved her hands in front of her face like a fan. “That can’t be real. No way can that be real.”

  “Sure.”

  “You’ve been using again. You’re seeing things.”

  “The things I saw are what made me start using again.”

  “But how?”

  “How the fuck should I know. It just is.”

  “This isn’t normal. This is not fucking normal.”

  “No shit.”

  “Maybe you have some kind of parasite in you.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Like contaminated food.” Now it was her turn to take up the pacing. Mind racing. “Something with a spider egg in it, and now it’s hatched. Have you eaten anything from any gas stations? I saw that shit on a documentary before. This guy ate some spoiled egg salad from a truck stop and started having these stomach pains, right? He’s driving down the road and suddenly he can’t focus, it hurts so much. Pulls off at the next rest area and barely makes it to the toilet before the shit just explodes out of him. He looks down in the toilet afterward and what does he see? Motherfuckin’ maggots.”

  “Amy.”

  “What?”

  “I gotta get the fuck out of here.”

  “What? Where are you going?”

  “You know where.”

  She paused, contemplating. “You came to withdraw money. Because you’re out of...”

  “You’re the one who keeps asking questions. If the answers make you feel so bad…”

  He tried walking past and she placed a hand against his chest. It was so unexpected he nearly clocked her.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Like fuck you are.”

  “Jeremy, you’re one crazy sonofabitch if you think I’m just letting you walk out of this store alone.”

  He sighed, staring at the hand still against his chest. He wondered if she pressed any harder if it’d cave in on his heart. “Why do you even give a shit?”

  Another phantom punch across her face. “I thought we were friends.”

  “We aren’t shit, and we ain’t never been shit.” He grabbed her shoulder and shoved her aside and stormed out of the bathroom, not giving a damn about the wide-eyes glued upon his ever-darkening crotch. Let them watch. Let them gasp. None of them mattered. Nothing mattered. Nothing except for bleeding out the ATM and exchanging its innards for more dope.

  Outside, pockets stuffed with cash, he stumbled through the parking lot, trying to remember where he’d parked. His mind seemed only to care about where he’d go once he found the car, and not so much on where the car was left. Five minutes passed before he located it, along with Amy leaning against the hood. She sat down in the passenger’s seat as he got behind the wheel and all he did was look at her, unable to piece together the correct sentence that’d get her to piss off.

  She fastened her seatbelt. “Fuck you. We’re totally friends.”

  12.

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “The plan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The plan is to buy dope, then inject said dope into my vein.”

  “Then what?”

  “What?”

  “What happens after that?”

  “Everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  13.

  He’d already set up a meeting before entering Walmart. They pulled up at the address given to him and sat in the parking lot, waiting. Ten minutes passed before Amy talked.

  “What are we doing?”

  “We’re waiting.”

  “I see that, but for what?”

  “I told you not to come.”

  “Are we waiting on someone to…”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you early or something?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” She leaned back in the seat, thumping her fingers against her thighs. “These drug dealers sure suck at time management.”

  “I hope you realize you’ve quit your job.”

  “What?”

  “Just walking out like that. No way they’re gonna let you back.”

  “Same goes to you, man.”

  Jeremy shrugged. Impatience trickled up his spine. “I was never planning on going back.”

  “It was a shit job, anyway.”

  “What’s your deal?” He turned to her, studying her confusion.

  “What do you mean, ‘what’s my deal’?”

  “Are you trying to fuck me or what?”

  “What?”

  “Because I have a girlfriend. You know I got a girlfriend.”

  “Yeah. You’ve said. I ain’t trying to fuck you, dude. Jesus Christ.”

  “You have no idea what she would do to you.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  His cell phone rang. He stared at the screen.

  “Is that your drug dealer?”

  “Shut up. Just shut the fuck up.” He answered the phone. “Yeah?”

  “I thought you said only one person would be coming.” The same woman from the previous call.

  “What?”

  “I asked how many people we should expect at the spot. You told me one. I’m seeing at least two. So either you flunked math or you’re trying to set me up.”

  “I didn’t know she was coming.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Jeremy glared at Amy and she looked back at him, confused. She mouthed the word “what” and he shook his head.

  “Well, she’s here now. Are we doing this or what?”

  “Get out of the car. Both of you.”

  “Why?”

  “Fuck your ‘why’. Just do it.”

  Jeremy lowered the phone and told Amy to get out.

  “Why?”

  His response was blank. “We just gotta get out.”

  “Oh-kay...”

  Once they were standing outside, he raised the phone back to his ear. “Now what?”

  “Face the car and touch the roof with both hands. Both of you. Spread your legs and close your eyes. Someone will come shortly to frisk you. If they give me the go-ahead, we’ll send you another pick-up spot and you’ll get what you want.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “The fuck you think?”

  She hung up.

  He slid the phone in his pocket and told Amy what to do.

  “I’m not doing that.”

  He could have ripped her head off. “
Listen, goddammit. This is what you wanted. You wanted to come. Well, here you are. Now put your fucking hands on the hood and spread your legs or I’ll do it for you.”

  Bam. Another punch. She obliged and closed her eyes, then he did the same. They stood in silence for several minutes as the wind slapped against their cheeks.

  “How long are we supposed to stand like this?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What, they didn’t say?”

  “They said to just stand and wait.”

  “So, they could be screwing with us. They could have already left.”

  “They won’t leave.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have money, and they have a product to sell.”

  “I’m going to open my eyes.”

  “Don’t.”

  “This is ridiculous. I feel ridiculous.”

  “Then you should’ve stayed back at Walmart.”

  Another voice, a man, whispered somewhere in the wind: “Will you two shut the fuck up?”

  Jeremy tensed.

  Amy gasped. “Holy shit, you scared me.”

  “Shut up,” the man said. “I’m going to search you. Just remain quiet. If you’re cool, we’re cool.”

  His hands fell on Jeremy first. Starting at his ankles, then up his body. Not very thorough. Jeremy could have easily concealed a blade or a wire and it would have gone unnoticed.

  Footsteps followed as the man walked around the car toward Amy. She gasped again. “Shit, man, some warning next time.”

  “Quiet.”

  “Watch your hands, dude.”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  Silence for a moment, then: “Oh fuck no, fuck no.” Followed by the sound of a struggle. Jeremy opened his eyes and found Amy pushing a bald man in a thick jacket away from the car.

  “Amy, what the hell?”

  Instead of answering him, she punched the man across the jaw and he fell down.

  “Oh shit.” Jeremy rushed around the car and grabbed her shoulder. “What the hell are—”

  She shoved Jeremy off her and kicked the man in the face as he tried to stand up. “You motherfucker. You cocksucking motherfucker!”

  She went to kick him again but Jeremy pulled her away. “What the fuck, Amy? What the fuck?”

  Fury consumed her. She pointed at the man on the ground, coughing up blood. “He grabbed me.”

  “Of course he grabbed you. He was searching you, just like he did me.”