Glistening Haven: A Shape Shifting Dystopian Boxset

by Jill Cooper

  The bedroom door opened just enough for Jake to stick his head out. “Just me, Mom. Packing for practice.”

  “Why they have these late-night practices is beyond me.”

  “Eight-thirty isn’t exactly late.”

  “I guess not, you’re right. Well, I hope you win the championship this year. What a way to go out.” With a faraway smile she thought about what that game would be like, how proud she’d be of Jake. She could even smell the popcorn and hot dogs to go along with it. When she dropped the fantasy, Susan saw Jake was staring at her like a dope. “What’s the matter? Is your mom so uncool that you must gawk at her?”

  “No, Mom. You’re swell. Real swell. I guess sometimes I just forget to tell you.” Out of nowhere, Jake hugged her. Susan gasped in surprise and squeezed him back, really leaning into the hug. She patted his back, closing her eyes. Being a mother really was rewarding. Susan never imagined when first discovering she was pregnant with him, he’d grow up into such a fine boy and she’d grow to love him so much. Glistening pregnancies were hard, but having him was worth every moment of it.

  ****

  The drive through the checkpoint brought them to a series of gates and an underground tunnel. When they emerged, they were dumped far from the city square. The tunnel behind them was sealed off with a blue force field and on either side were two police officers dressed as security guards. It was night, so the streets were quiet. There were a few cars traveling the road, but nothing that constituted as heavy traffic.

  Out the window Jenna saw a young woman pushing a baby carriage along toward the Soda Jerk. She was pretty and dressed in a long skirt with a matching headband around her long blonde hair. Everything looked like she did in New Haven, perfect, innocent, but underneath all that Jenna knew she was a monster; a ticking time bomb beneath the surface of flesh. Living in New Haven left Jenna uneasy, but most were familiar with her handiwork and kept a distance. She was sure they’d love the chance to throttle her, but once a glistening was tagged, the restraint bracelets they wore kept violence in check.

  They drove through the grid streets lined with evenly spaced trees and perfectly coordinated flowers. The air that blew in through their open windows was sweet, like the smell of honeysuckle and freshly picked blueberries. Jenna took a deep breath, with her eyes closed, and despite her reservations it did feel like coming home.

  They drove through streets lined with boutiques, hat and scarf shops, quaint restaurants, and the odd small-town grocery store. Ascending a steep hill, the lights from the residential homes brightened into view, well-placed crickets chirped and Jameson had to swerve to avoid crushing a red tricycle with streamers beneath the wheels of the van.

  Jenna saw a family sitting on a porch drinking lemonade, while others flew kites with two small children. Glistenings were not allowed to have more than two. Anyone who didn’t comply was “ostracized” long enough to abort and be retrained.

  Taking a hard right, they came to a short street lined with family-friendly restaurants. To the left was Dusty’s pub. It helped that they had the best steaks and monster-sized potato wedges money could buy. It was expensive—as was anything with real red meat in New Haven—but it was their favorite place to unwind after a job.

  The pub was dully lit and brown booths littered the perimeter of the smoky bar area. Deer heads and other hunting memorabilia hung around the tables. A portly bartender poured foamy beverages into giant steins and slid them down the bar. Fallen peanut shells littered the counter as people hunched over their drinks and kept to themselves. Every once in awhile, they darted glances back at the round booth in the corner.

  In that booth, Jenna studied the menu, even though it hadn’t changed in over five years. Around them all the booths were empty while the stools at the bar were overcrowded. “It’s nice the way they give us privacy. I think I’m going to have the twelve-ounce.”

  “With a nice toasted baked.” Jameson grinned and flipped his menu closed. He snapped his fingers. “We’re ready to order over here. Service! Where’s our service?”

  Dirk grimaced. “You could at least be a little courteous to them. We don’t want them to spit into our food.”

  Jameson made a face. “We’re ready to order, please.”

  Jenna sipped her water and nearly spat it back out. It tasted so sparkling fresh that it couldn’t be natural; she worried about what chemicals might be wetting her palate. She glanced up as Jeff Monroe, the owner and operator, stepped forward. Clean-cut, short hair, perfect polo shirt. Just like everyone else in their little Stepford town.

  “Good evening. Tonight for specials—”

  “We don’t need the specials,” Dirk said.

  Jeff spoke louder, as if he didn’t hear him. “For specials, we have a delicate pounded chicken in a cream glaze with mushrooms. It is quite succulent and I highly recommend it.”

  After they ordered, Jenna handed him her menu. “Why is it you always recommend the specials and not the house items?”

  Jeff organized the menus in his hand and then stuck them neatly under his arm. “We just try to push the specials, Officer Morgan. There’s no conspiracy.”

  Jenna grinned. “My reputation does precede me. Do you wait on all the humans that come in here, or just us?”

  “I’m betting it’s just us,” Dirk said.

  “Just you.” Jeff’s words held no humor.

  “I’ll count us lucky then.” Jenna added. “You either like to humor your staff because they refuse to wait on us, or you like skirting with danger. Which is it?”

  Dirk and Jameson exchanged glances. “Next she’s going to whip out her knife to clean under her fingernails.” Jameson said.

  Jeff decided not to answer, which Jenna thought self-preservation kicking in. “I’ll bring your drinks was probably right over. Oh, would you like some bread while you wait?”

  Jameson grinned, glancing at his watch briefly. “Please.”

  Jenna’s eyes followed Jeff as he returned to the kitchen while Dirk leaned back in the booth and flicked his arm over the rest. His fingers grazed Jenna’s shoulder. She tensed and scooted over a smidge to get away from him.

  “Why do you keep glancing at your watch?” Dirk asked, toothpick twirling at the corner of his mouth.

  “Places to go, people to do.” Jameson laughed.

  “Who is it this time?” Jenna asked. “Not that little bookworm at the library.”

  “Again.” Dirk added. “You know, if you keep this up, you’re going to run out of humans in this town to date and then what are you going to do? Double back?”

  Jenna snorted.

  “She’s a doctor actually. Fairlane Jennings.”

  “The one that runs the tests?” Jenna asked, interest piqued.

  “You know it. I only roll with the best. It’s why I tolerate you guys.”

  Jenna laughed as their beers were sat on the table. She turned to thank Jeff for his service and met his penetrating eyes. For a moment she thought she saw something in them, recognition. Like he saw something in her he knew, understood.

  Only paranoia, she thought as she brought the bottle to her lips and sipped.

  Chapter Eight Travis Reynolds

  “You’re blaming this on me?” Travis asked his manic wife as she paced the living room. She was on autopilot, in a complete frenzy, and it was driving him mad. Almost even more so than knowing his little girl—Travis couldn’t even complete the thought.

  “Yes!” Expelling a big breath, Alice slapped her thighs with her open palms. “She didn’t come to us because how we’re always fighting.”

  “Oh, right, because I fight with myself.”

  She sighed. “You’re the one who refuses to listen or give me any wiggle room.”

  “I have a job. You knew that when we got married.”

  “And you said after a few years you’d try something else. Go into the private sector. Instead I’ve spent the best years of my life in a bubble!”

  Travis wiped the spit
away from his mouth. “We were happy, weren’t we? We raised Wendy. You had her. You had your job—”

  “Teaching kindergarten to a bunch of glistenings? It isn’t even real education, Travis. It’s conditioning them to behave like us.”

  “That only lasts for a few years. If you were that unhappy you could have taught third grade, elementary, high school. I could have gotten you anything you wanted.”

  “Right I could have anything I wanted because you decreed it? Well, no thank you.” Alice turned her head, and upturned her nose.

  “So you’d rather be miserable?” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “And you want to bring us with you, is that it? Damn it, Alice.” Travis glanced away and fought the urge to charge out of the house for good.

  She laughed and tears clung to her lashes. “That’s how you see me, is it? A bitter angry woman out to push my misery on everyone else.”

  The anger tumbled out of him. “Aren’t you? That’s why Wendy’s upstairs crying her eyes out right now, isn’t it? We should be supporting her right now, not arguing about this like it’s a problem that needs to be taken care of.”

  “She’s crying because she ruined her life. Not me, not me.” Alice insisted, waving her finger. “I’ll be stuck in this house for another eighteen years raising another baby while you run along—”

  “You don’t know that,” Travis whispered. “She’s eighteen, maybe she wants this baby. Maybe they’ll get married, but you didn’t even ask, did you? All you care about is how it’s going to affect you. Me, me, me. It’s all you’ve ever cared about, admit it. I was the husband on your arm. Wendy was the possession to dress up and prance around like a porcelain doll. None of this fits into your plan.”

  Alice’s eyes blinked out of control. Her quick sharp of breath said Travis stepped over the line. “You think I’m selfish? Me? When you’re the one that let us live among those things for your job?”

  Travis opened his mouth, but his eyes fell to Wendy charging down the stairs. Her hair was wild. Her face swam with tears as she pushed right past them. Travis grabbed her hand, squeezed her fingers, and begged her to stop. “Honey, where are you going?”

  “Out!” She screamed. “Away from all this fighting!”

  Alice glared at him. “I told you—”

  “Stop it!” Wendy screamed, grabbing at her hair. “I can’t listen to you talk to Dad like that. Or talk about the glistenings like that. They’re not things, they’re not monsters.” Her teeth gnashed and her eyes were frenzied. Travis sucked in his breath and wondered for the first time who the father was. “Just leave me alone!”

  She pulled away from her father and when he refused to let go, Wendy pushed him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” Wendy’s voice shook. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  Something in her voice stilled him and Travis let her slip through his fingers. Wendy opened the front door and ran down the brick steps, leaving her parents to stare after her.

  The door swung back and latched. Travis was not usually an emotional man, but tears stung in his eyes. He had the feeling that he might never see her again.

  “How could you just let her go?” Alice demanded. “She needs to be back here. We have things we have to discuss and hammer out. Go after her!”

  Travis shook his head, defeated. “What she decides is her decision. She’s not a baby anymore, Al. We should support her, but this isn’t our call.”

  Alice fumed, biting her lip. “And you have no problem with this? Her storming out of here in the middle of the night?”

  “If I was her, I’d want to be out of this house too.”

  Infuriated, she raised her hand to slap him. Travis took a deep breath, steeling himself for the assault when he picked up a stench. His nose tingled and he smelled the familiar twang of gas.

  Somewhere in the house, something snapped. Alice stared at him questioning, lowering her hand. In the back hall, a squeak and the sound of footsteps made her gasp, spin around. Her voice was that of a little girl, unsure and afraid. “Should I call the police?”

  “I am the police. Just stay here.” Travis placed a hand on the butt of his revolver and crept down the hall. The darkness led him to the entrance to the basement. The stars were darkened and only the faint light from the moon allowed him to see an orange glow at the bottom. He stopped to peer down, one hand on the door frame and a foot hovering above the next step. Hands braced his back.

  Why could she never do anything that he asked, even when it came to a break-in? Suppressing a sigh, Travis saw that the orange glow was growing. It wasn’t light. It was fire, racing up the steps to meet them. It crackled, coming to life with a roar of a lion charging its prey.

  Travis pushed Alice back and slammed the door hard to latch. Pivoting, he grabbed his wife’s arm and charged her out of the hall. “Run!” His words were drowned out by the whoosh of a fireball.

  He threw his wife down. The fireball grew like a fiery sky above them, and the heat melted his shirt. “Alice!” he screamed, but his vision was claimed by smoke. It snaked its way down his throat, choking him off from air.

  Her scream came and Travis held his breath, desperate to find his lovely bride. “Baby!” Beneath him the floor groaned and as it buckled, and the foundation crumbled, Travis desperately felt at the carpet, searching for Alice’s hand.

  ****

  Oakland field was empty when Wendy arrived. Jittery, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was there, that Dad hadn’t put a tail on her. Or that he wasn’t across the street in the family sedan. No one was there and Wendy was worried that Jake had changed his mind. Maybe he would rebuke her and the baby. Who could blame him, right? It wasn’t his problem, it was hers. She was the one stuck with it.

  Tears in her eyes, she gasped a half sob when she saw someone step out from behind the trees. He was still in the shadows, but Wendy could make out the rustling of the branches and the sound of soft steps. Rushing towards him, she wanted to drop her bag, but her fingers were clenched so tight they wouldn’t respond. When she was close enough to make out Jake’s features, the worry in his face and the pure joy in his eyes, she sobbed. Wendy stopped in her tracks and cried.

  “Wendy.” His voice was soft and consoling, but she had held it in for so long that she just couldn’t stop crying. Jake’s soft hands wiped the tears away from her cheeks. Then with rushed breath, they kissed, clinging to each other’s bodies and Wendy thought she must be dreaming.

  Clutching his flesh between her fingers, her eyes clenched tight. “I’m so scared. I’m so scared.” Her teeth chattered, but not from cold. The fear gripped inside her belly and her limbs shook. So weak, her legs wobbled.

  Jake held her close, his arms tight around her, as if sensing her need. “Me too, me too, but we’re not alone. We have each other. I’ve been so worried about you.” Jake sighed, kissing her again. She relished in his touch, in his lips, and the soft scent of his cologne. She thought she might die if they got caught, if she might never be able to feel him around her again. “Are you okay?” He rushed on, kissing her cheek and then just held her. He just held her.

  Wendy was sorry she doubted him, but they hadn’t had a chance to talk in weeks, almost a month. Through their notes their plan came together, but it felt like this day might never come. Now she felt stronger being with him. She knew they were young, but they could make it work, couldn’t they? Couldn’t this work?

  “I’m okay,” she said with much more confidence than she actually felt. “I’ve been sick, real sick, but I think,” her voice trailed off, haunted, “it’s been moving. That must mean he’s okay, right?”

  She always talked about the baby as if she knew it was a him. Wendy didn’t know why, but that felt right and natural. Jake placed both his hands on her rounded belly, beneath the baggy fabric of her sweatshirt. His was a look of wonder and amazement, laced with fear. “We’ll find out soon. I promise. I promise I’ll take care of you, Wendy. No matter what happens. Okay? I’m just, sorry I did this t
o you.” He gave a little shrug, looking meek and apologetic.

  She shook her head with the threat of fresh tears. “We did it together. It was stupid, but I can’t, can’t wish him away. Does that make me an idiot?”

  “No,” Jake said with confidence, draping his arms around her. “No. But it makes me realize how special you are to me. I know I have a lot of growing up to do, this isn’t going to be easy, but—”

  “We’ll be together,” Wendy said with a big rosy smile.

  Jake repeated the words with a deep calm and it settled her like it always did. He was special, Wendy thought to herself. No one calmed her like he did.

  She rested her head on his shoulder as they made their way through the park. Jake retrieved a hidden bag beneath a bench and handed it to Wendy. “Right where she said it would be.” Wendy’s heart was thankful and she said a silent prayer.

  They made their way over to a black unmarked van next to the concession stand. When they approached, the back doors opened and a police officer pulled them in.

  Wendy recognized George Stanton from the few times she visited her dad at the Outpost. She was so grateful he saw things their way and was overcome with a gratitude she couldn’t voice. Instead, she looked to Rebecca Seers, who smiled broadly. “It’s nice to finally be able to talk with you, Wendy.” Her hand was offered in a warm handshake.

  Wendy crushed her in a hug instead. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done.”

  Rebecca patted her back with a slight smile. “Easy, girl. We don’t have a lot of time to get you out of here.” She glanced to George.

  He took it as permission to continue. Lifting Jake’s arm gently, he inspected his security bracelet before placing a device against it. In a moment the bracelet beeped and unhooked from around the boy’s wrist. “No one will be looking for him on the grid at least until his parents report him missing.”

  “We have a few hours, or maybe until tomorrow morning.” Rebecca sighed. “We have to make tracks and will be passing through a checkpoint. You two will hide back here under some blankets. Cliché, I know, but I can get us through the checkpoint. Just trust me.”