The Blood Gardener (The Dark River Book 2)

by Michael Richan

  And the fact that I blamed him for Anna’s death, he thought to himself.

  Don’t you think talking has made our bond stronger? he asked A.

  No, A replied. I feel the same about you now as I’ve always felt.

  Do you remember your birth?

  I remember being warm and sticky. I remember seeing you. I remember being cold, in my corner.

  That corner of the house where Edward made you stay? Derick asked.

  Yes. I remember shivering.

  Derick felt another pang of remorse. Monochildren were not thought of highly in the Dark River, and A had been on the receiving end of Edward’s anger after Anna’s death.

  Do you remember when Edward carved into your back? Derick asked, ashamed now that he’d let the event occur, but wanting to know to what depths A’s memories went.

  Oh yes, A replied, looking down at the contraption in his hands. I remember opening my mouth to scream from the pain, but nothing came out.

  Derick felt as if he was going to cry. At that moment Monkey returned from his lab, and Derick wiped at his eyes to remove the moisture.

  “Alright,” Monkey said, sitting in a chair opposite Derick. He held up the vial of clear liquid. “This is a powerful paralytic. An interesting compound. It acts quickly, immobilizes the body from the neck down. All traces of it disappear within a few minutes after adrenaline is released.”

  “I thought it looked odd. Is it Dark River?”

  “Most likely. How did you come across it?”

  “I was going through my stuff, looking for something else. It had an opalescent quality when I held it to the light that made me think it wasn’t completely real-world. What about Anna’s hair?”

  “I’m saving the strands of hair for later analysis, since it will take longer to do the DNA research I intend to perform. I did, however, review your notes on the provenance modification that you copied from your book. Very interesting. I do believe I can upgrade my scope to include that data, provided we can procure a supply of axto required to feed the embryonic Eater that must be installed inside it.”

  “Whoa,” Derick said, still thinking about the paralytic in the vial. “One more time. You need what?”

  “I install an embryonic Eater inside my device,” Monkey said, opening the note Derick had transcribed onto the grocery list. “You wrote it down, you must have read it!”

  “Honestly, there were parts of it I didn’t understand at all,” he replied. “I just wrote the letters I saw on the page until I had the entire chapter copied.”

  “Well,” Monkey said, shuffling through the papers, “if the Eater’s metabolism is monitored correctly, it will trigger a readout in the device that will display provenance, showing the history of the object you stole from Mazlo.”

  I stole, A interjected.

  “But the embryo has to be fed, and what you feed it matters,” Monkey said. “We need axto to create the correct metabolism in the embryo.”

  “Nothing’s ever simple down here, is it?” Derick said.

  “Actually,” Money replied, “this design is one of the simpler modifications I’ve seen. Elegant, really. I have a dozen experiments going on back there that are far more complex. You’re not a scientist, are you?”

  “No,” he replied. “Never wanted to be, either.”

  “Leave the embryo to me,” Monkey said. “I have traps I can put out. Eaters sometimes drift into this area, looking for the creatures I collect in the trapweeds, stealing them from me before I can harvest them. I use special traps to reduce their numbers.”

  “What do you do with them after you trap them?”

  “Salvage what I can, incinerate the rest. Those same traps are how I’ve caught a monochild occasionally.”

  A looked up.

  “I promise I won’t trap any monochildren, A,” Monkey said.

  A cast his gaze back down to the toy in his hands.

  “Eaters are hermaphroditic and I can induce self-fertilization,” Monkey said. “They gestate quickly. Once I have captured one, I’ll strap it down and…”

  “I don’t need the details,” Derick interrupted.

  “Right,” Monkey replied. “While I concentrate on the Eater, you should concentrate on the axto. I figure we’ll need at least half a pint.”

  “And where do I find axto?” Derick asked.

  “No idea, I’ve never used the stuff before.”

  “Great,” Derick replied, trying to think of people he knew in the Dark River who might have a lead on odd substances.

  “You might try my supplier in Pana,” Monkey offered. “He’s been able to get me some very esoteric things in the past. He might know.”

  I want to go with you, A said. I’m so bored here. He sat the contraption he’d been holding down on the sofa next to him.

  “What a thing to say after I made you that puzzle!” Monkey replied.

  I like the puzzle, A said. I’m just bored with it, that’s all.

  “You can come,” Derick replied.

  Monkey rose from his seat and picked up the toy. “I’ll make it harder to beat, that’s what!” he said, shaking it in A’s face. A reacted with a smile. Monkey turned to Derick. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to take that Mazlo finger with you?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like the idea of being alone in the house with it.”

  “Oh come on, Monkey. Buck up. It’s just a finger.”

  “It’s a finger from The Blood Gardener.”

  “It isn’t his finger.”

  “Doesn’t matter, there’s a reason he wanted it.”

  “You know, I was expecting a monster from your descriptions of the guy. I found him to be quite interesting and friendly.”

  Monkey stared back at him. “Then you need to be very, very careful.”

  “Why?”

  “The only reason he even talked with you is because he thinks he can use you somehow. The stories I’ve heard of people trying to see him usually involve them returning and missing some body part. Are you sure you’ve still got all yours?”

  “I’ll do an inventory when I go back to the real world,” Derick replied, standing. “We’ll leave, A, as soon as I get back from a reset.”

  Yes, you should kill the eggs before we go, A said. Who knows how long we might be away from a portal.

  Derick left Monkey’s house to return to Roarke, feeling very much like a child ordered to use the restroom before a long trip.

  - - -

  “You’ve got to make Henderson do it!” Derick said into his phone. It was wedged between his ear and his shoulder, as he used both hands to search through boxes in his home. “You’ve got to convince him.”

  “Why don’t you call him yourself?” Franklin replied. “I tried already. I talked the guy’s ear off. He doesn’t think your concerns warrant disturbing Hauer while he’s trying to recover.”

  “What the fuck did he want me involved for, then?”

  “I think he was hoping you’d find a clue that would lead them somewhere.”

  “I have!” Derick said, pulling open the cardboard flaps of another box and rummaging through it. “The clue is in Hauer’s head right now, waiting to hatch and kill him! I’ll have to talk to Hauer directly when his nurse hasn’t just pumped him full of drugs.”

  “What are you doing? You sound out of breath.”

  “Going through boxes. I found something suspicious the other day, and I…” he stopped. A white washcloth was under the electrical cords he’d just lifted out of the box. It was stained with red.

  “Gotta call you back, Franklin,” he said.

  “Wait, what kind of…” Franklin started, but Derick hung up. He reached for the washcloth, feeling something inside: handles, maybe five inches in length. He opened it, revealing the bladed end of a pair of hand snips. Blood was crusted along the sharp edges and smeared all over the washcloth.

  He looked down at the tool. No doubt used to remove a toe, he thought. Maybe even Ha
uer’s scrotum. He suspected it would test positive for at least one of the victims.

  I’ll have to go through the whole house, he thought, setting the washcloth back into the box and folding the flaps closed. He set it aside, near the door.

  As he began a more methodic pass through each box, he wondered who was behind the setup. How long before an anonymous tip would have sent the cops here to search the place? A perfect way to get rid of me — lock me in jail in the real world, where I could never enter the Dark River again. Problem neutralized.

  He progressed through the next box slowly, checking everything. LeFever’s organization most likely, he thought. He had enemies in the Achernar Group, but that didn’t seem as probable as LeFever. He’d killed Yann, and they’d heard the stories of the firestorm at Valkin, how it had wiped out an entire group of Raidarchists. It had to be LeFever.

  Who else was in on it? Henderson? Get my fingerprints into the victim’s homes by sending me to visit them? Was it coincidence that I was there just as Mrs. Kessig’s spiders hatched and poured out of her ear, suffocating her?

  Is Franklin in on it?

  The idea made him feel sick. He suddenly felt alone, as though he had no friends in the world and no one he could trust.

  I can trust A, he thought. And maybe Monkey.

  The next box contained books and picture albums. He opened each and held them upside down, so if anything was stuck into them, it would fall out. He was shocked when a half-dozen photographs fell from one of the albums. He picked them up and looked at them. They were pictures that weren’t his; pictures of Hauer’s deceased wife.

  “Ah, fuck!” he cried, feeling the enormity of the setup swirl around him, knowing he needed to find every last bit of incriminating evidence that had been planted in his home. He took the photos and placed them in the box at the door that already held the snips, and returned to searching. When he was done, he’d take the entire box to his trailer, and in the quiet privacy of the mosquito-infested riverbank, he’d burn it all until it was ash, then bury what remained. Evidence doesn’t survive fire, he remembered from his training. So much for the setup.

  He kept searching, running scenarios through his mind, trying to decide which one was the most likely. He decided not to call Franklin back for now. Even if his friend wasn’t involved, it was best to keep the man in the dark about having discovered the setup until he could be sure he’d eliminated any threat.

  He hoped Franklin would keep trying with Henderson, but for now he had to leave Hauer in Franklin’s hands. If the hatching of the spiders was triggered in any way by his presence, he couldn’t risk a trip to visit the man.

  Chapter Nine

  A ran slightly ahead of Derick as they entered Pana, the small town Monkey used for most of his trading and for worm treatments. Derick reached into his pocket, removing a trapweed seed and popping it into his mouth, boosting the transformation of his face for another thirty minutes.

  Stay close, Derick called to A, realizing the kid hadn’t been to a town in weeks. A spent most of his time cooped up at Monkey’s, and was naturally excited and intrigued by the approaching buildings and people.

  It reminds me of Corbin, A said, slowing down so Derick could catch up. A’s mention of Corbin reminded Derick of rescuing A from the Soul Grinders there, when he’d first become aware of his ability to control firestorms.

  Remember there are people here who would just as soon kidnap you and sell you as look at you, Derick said.

  He felt the heat of A’s body as the monochild moved closer to him.

  Derick followed Monkey’s directions, zig-zagging through streets until he came to a chaotic building near the center of town. Large crates of material were being hauled into the front door of the establishment by a group of men, and the shop owner was directing them where to place the deliveries. Several other people were pestering the shop owner, haggling. The man was struggling to manage them and the arriving crates at the same time.

  Derick observed the activity and waited patiently for things to calm down. The hagglers finished their transactions with the shop owner, and eventually the last of the crates had been delivered and signed for. The shop seemed suddenly quiet.

  “And what can I do for you?” the shop owner said, turning to Derick. He glanced down at A. “Don’t need any more monochildren, got a full cage of them out back at the moment. Sell you one, though.”

  “You do business with Horatio Unser, I believe,” Derick said. “He referred me to you.”

  “Monkey? Sure, I know him. A great customer. I’m Red. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand, and Derick shook it. “What can I do for you?”

  Derick didn’t see A retreating behind him, out of sight of the shop owner, but he could sense him quietly disappearing, and he wondered what the kid was up to.

  “I’m looking for axto,” Derick replied. “Monkey thought you might have some, or know where I could acquire it.”

  “Not much demand for axto,” Red replied, turning to walk behind the counter of his shop. Derick heard a high-pitched squeal coming from one of the crates that had been delivered.

  “Gotta get them unpacked soon,” Red muttered as he scanned the jars that lined the shelf behind his counter. “Axto, axto…” He pulled down a jar and stared through the glass sides. “Nope. Out. Might have been out for a long time. Like I said, not much demand. Most people prefer to use rushsperm. I got some of that if you’d like.”

  “I think I’d better stick with the axto,” Derick replied. “Any idea where I might get some?”

  Red turned the bottle around reading the label on the back. “Looks like I used to get it from Portsmouth. Makes sense. Like rushsperm, it’s harvested from the rushers.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t know exactly, but you could take it up with the guy at Portsmouth Supply if you’d like. That’s where this came from.”

  “Anyone there in particular?”

  “I always work with a guy there named Herb,” Red replied. “He’s a salesman. Comes around here once a month, drops off orders.”

  “Thanks,” Derick said. “I guess that’s all I needed.”

  Red walked to one of the crates and used a crowbar to pry the siding away. Inside were floating puffs that looked like large white dandelion heads, slowly bobbing in the air. “Sorry, it’ll be a real mess if I don’t get these guys unpacked before they transform.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Derick said, backing out of the shop. “Thanks for your help.”

  Behind him, another person entered the shop and approached Red to ask questions. Derick turned and exited quickly.

  A? he called. Where did you go?

  I’m around back, he heard faintly.

  Derick walked to the rear of the building, where he found A perched on a short wooden crate, staring into the back of the shop through a dirty window.

  What are you doing? Derick asked.

  They’re trapped in there! A said, climbing down. Derick didn’t need the crate to peer in, and placed his face next to the dingy glass. It appeared to be a storeroom, and there, along one wall, was a short cage. Six monochildren were inside, pressed together so tightly they could hardly move. He saw one child’s face smashed up against the mesh of the cage; he was unsure if the child was trying to escape, or had been forced into that position by the other monochildren inside.

  We have to let them out! A said. They can’t breathe.

  “They’ve been packed in like sardines,” Derick muttered. He knew it would upset A, but he turned to go. Come on, he said. We have to go to Portsmouth.

  We can’t leave them like that! A said.

  We have to, Derick replied. They’re the property of that shop owner. We can’t just break in and liberate them.

  He’s selling them, right? We can buy them.

  And then what? Derick asked. We let them go, they’ll run loose on the streets and be rounded up for sale again within an hour.

  We can take them with us to Portsmouth.
Let them go somewhere between here and there. They can hide in the wilds.

  And be snatched up by Eaters, Derick replied. I’m sorry, A. I’d love to do it, but it doesn’t make sense.

  A looked down, dejected.

  We have to stay low-key, Derick said. Walking through town with a gaggle of monochildren will just draw attention. Come on, let’s go. We have a long way to Portsmouth.

  A walked to him, unhappy with the decision.

  - - -

  As they crossed the outskirts of Atina on the way to Portsmouth, Derick had to keep pushing A along. The kid kept stopping, staring at the lights and the strange cloud over the town. Derick got the impression that A was mesmerized, in much the same way his brain shut down when Monkey showed him certain visual stimuli.

  It’s so pretty, A said. Don’t you want to look?

  No, Derick replied. I want to keep moving. We’ve got another four hours to Portsmouth, at least.

  Yeah, but the lights, A said. What is that thing up in the sky?

  Derick stopped and turned to look at the town. Almost a city, he thought to himself. The biggest settlement in the Dark River. LeFever headquarters is somewhere in there.

  I don’t know what that is, he said to A, staring at the strange formation in the sky above the town. It almost looked like the funnel cloud of a tornado, but it was much wider and was cut off on the top and bottom. Ambient light from the city barely illuminated it, its dark grey clouds slowly swirling in the air against the constant black.

  Maybe it’s a pollution cloud, Derick said. Lots of people live in Atina. Though I don’t know what would pollute down here.

  I’ve never seen so much light, A replied.

  Derick thought of Las Vegas; Atina looked like Podunk compared to the bright lights of Sin City. Still, in the Dark River, Atina certainly had the most light of any settlement, and the reflection of the light by the strange cloud that always hung over the town seemed to amplify that light, bouncing it back down to the streets, making things brighter.