The Curse: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (After the End Trilogy Book 1)

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The Curse: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (After the End Trilogy Book 1) Page 11

by Mark Gillespie


  Shay placed a hand on Rachel’s belly.

  “How are you feeling today?”

  Rachel shrugged.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “Apart from being a little tired here and there I’m fine.” She looked at Eda. “I had a short career as Helen – it was over before it began I guess. Damn shame, I liked living in the Waldorf too. But it’s not so bad – the girls here pamper me day and night, bringing me food and whatever I need whenever I need it. They’ve done everything but put me in bubble wrap like I was a china doll.”

  “That’s still to come,” Shay said, smiling. “Just you wait and see.”

  Eda scratched her head. “You were Helen before me?”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said. “I sure was.”

  Eda pointed to Rachel’s belly. Even under the baggy tent-like clothes she thought she could see a slight swelling poking out.

  “The grinning man?” Eda said. “He did that?”

  “Yes he did,” Shay said. “Turns out he had good reason to be confident after all.”

  One of the women came over and handed Eda a tall glass of water. Eda mumbled her thanks and drained the glass in one gulp.

  “Feeling better now?” Shay asked.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Eda said, wiping her mouth dry. “I don’t get it Shay. You’ve got all these Helens hiding out in here and they’re either knocked up or they’re full-blown mothers. What the hell is this place?”

  “Let’s go sit down,” Shay said. “We’ll talk some more.”

  They went over to a vacant table.

  Eda sat down in a soft chair and leaned her back up against the wall. When she closed her eyes she saw the blood all over again. She saw the controlled fury in Shay’s eyes as the door to Helen’s bedroom was kicked open. And now, with all the kids laughing and playing on the floor around them, Mitford’s murder was starting to feel like a nightmare slipping to the back of Eda’s mind.

  But it happened. It did happen.

  “What’s going on Shay?” she said. “What is all this?”

  “The future,” Shay said. “This is a nursery and it’s where human civilization, which was nearly lost in the End War, will begin to grow again.”

  “But why did you kill Mitford like that?” Eda said. “What was that?”

  Shay looked around the room with a blank expression.

  “It might be hard for you to grasp at the moment Eda,” she said. “But there’s still evil in the world. It’s out there and I’m determined that these children will be raised in peace, far removed from the influence of the old world. You ask me what this is – this is what starting over looks like. You have to clean up the mess in an empty house before you start building a new home there.”

  “The curse is a lie,” Eda said, staring into empty space. “The ambassadors send men here not to breed, but to die. That’s what the Project is, right?”

  Shay’s eyes were cast down, fixed on hands that were clasped tightly together on the table. It looked like she was praying.

  “You’re too young to remember the End War,” she said. “But I’ll never forget the things I saw. And all of it driven by greed and bloodlust, which has always existed in the hearts of certain types of men. It’s these men who come to New York looking for Helen. The world fell apart and there were no trials to punish them for starting a war. The war. What we’re doing, it’s justice.”

  “It looks like murder to me,” Eda said.

  “Justice,” Shay whispered. “Better late than never.”

  “You’re killing the existing male population off,” Eda said. “Luring them to New York and using Helen as bait. And with any luck, they put a baby in Helen before they get hacked to pieces. Jesus, you kill them and use their sperm to add to this nursery. I’ll admit, it’s one hell of a plan Shay but it’s still murder.”

  “You’re a smart girl Eda,” Shay said. “You’ve seen them. They come to New York like conquering heroes and that’s exactly how we want them to feel. They deny the curse, knowing that their bodies are working just fine. It makes them feel special. They think they’re different to all the other men. They feel like kings, like the chosen one. Is it any wonder, in a world where so few men are left, that so many of them still choose to come here? It’s because they want to feel alive again. To feel strong, to feel good about themselves.”

  Eda shook her head.

  “It’s a hell of a bait,” she said. “But it’s not the only reason you came up with the curse. Is it?”

  A smile emerged on the older woman’s face.

  “You are a clever girl Eda,” she said. “Go on then.”

  “The rest of the women in the Complex,” Eda said. “If there’s a curse then they don’t ask any questions when all these men disappear, right? The men die and it’s because of the curse. Tell me, are you ever going to tell them the truth about what you’re doing? About the Helens? About all these kids?”

  “Maybe,” Shay said. “But only when our children are older. And let’s be honest – by then will it matter? A lot of those women out there won’t be around to see it. They’re old and they’re happy the way they are. Why rattle their world at this point?”

  “There must be other children out there,” Eda said. “If there’s no curse, you know what I mean?”

  “I don’t worry about that,” Shay said. “There aren’t enough people out there for me to worry about it. Listen to me Eda – life is here. Growth is here. The future is here. This is a thriving community and unlike the rest of the human scraps out there we’re organized. This will endure. Eventually, when our children have grown up, they can venture out there and see if there’s anything left. They’ll carry the values of peace with them – values that were instilled right here in the Roosevelt. From there, we can build a new world. It’ll take a long time and I won’t be around to see it flourish but it’s enough just knowing that we’ll survive. What more can we do in such dreadful circumstances?”

  Eda glanced over at Rachel. The young mother-to-be had fallen asleep in her chair.

  “You make it sound so noble Shay,” she said. “And maybe it is, apart from the fact that you’re lying to everyone in the Complex. Killer orgasms, Jesus. I guess we’ll believe anything if we’re frightened or desperate enough.”

  Shay pointed towards the staircase. “There’s one more thing I want you to see,” she said.

  “What?” Eda said. “I’m not sure how much more I can take today.”

  She heard the sound of someone walking upstairs. At the same time, all the other Helens and even the children had gone quiet.

  “I think you should turn around and take a look,” Shay said. The way she said it, it was enough to persuade Eda to look over her shoulder.

  A young woman stood at the top of the stairs, carrying a sleeping infant in her arms.

  “Hello Eda.”

  Eda jumped up to her feet and clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “Frankie!”

  Eda couldn’t move for about five seconds. Her body was a mess of mixed signals. She didn’t know whether to be overjoyed or outraged at the woman standing in front of her. Then she ran to the stairs and threw her arms around her old friend, doing her best not to smother the sleeping child in the process.

  “Eda,” Frankie said, whispering in her ear. “Oh thank God. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Eda held onto her for a long time. She was too happy to cry and yet the tears came anyway. Now she knew what tears of joy were and what that felt like.

  Eventually she broke free and stepped back, her mind in a daze. Frankie looked exactly like she remembered. Her dull blonde hair was loose around the shoulders and her skin was still the same flawless shade of alabaster. She looked beautiful, but older somehow in a way that Eda couldn’t place.

  The little girl in her arms was a miniature replica of Frankie.

  “You didn’t run off then?” Eda said. “Jesus Frankie, you’ll never know what that did to me.”

  Frankie looked dow
n at the floor, clearly embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry Eda. I begged Shay to let you know but it’s a pretty big secret, right? I guess you understand that now. As far as anyone in the Complex is aware there’s only ever been one Helen of Troy living in the big Waldorf castle. Shay couldn’t risk anyone else knowing.”

  “And you got pregnant,” Eda said. Her head was spinning. The fact that she was standing there talking to her long lost friend was incredible. And she had a kid too for God’s sake. “I can’t believe it Frankie – you’re a mother. You!”

  Frankie nodded.

  “It didn’t take long before I was knocked up,” she said. “It was the second man that I slept with – a real asshole, I was almost glad when they…”

  Eda lowered her voice. “Killed him?”

  Frankie looked at the sleeping child in her arms and shrugged.

  “Today was your first time then?” she asked Eda.

  Eda nodded. “First time for a lot of things,” she said. “But yeah, that too. I can still feel his blood on my skin. I think I can even smell it too.”

  Frankie rocked the sleeping child back and forth.

  “I hear you,” she said. “With any luck you conceived today and that’s it – you’ll never have to go through all that again. You’re fertile right? That means there’s a good chance. It won’t take too long for your body to tell you if there’s a baby growing in it. And hey, you know what the best thing is? If you get pregnant you’ll come and live here too – won’t that be great? We’ll get to spend all day together raising our kids side by side. Who would ever have thought it, huh?”

  Eda tried to smile.

  “You like it here?”

  Frankie laughed, a little too hard to sound convincing. “Yeah of course.”

  Eda’s hand fell to her belly. It was strange and terrifying to think there might already be a tiny seed of life growing inside her.

  “So now you know Eda,” Shay said, walking over to the two young women. “The rest of the women in the Complex would never understand what we’re doing here.”

  “Yeah,” Eda said.

  Frankie turned sideways on, showing off her daughter’s peaceful face as she slept. Eda reached over and stroked the girl’s soft hair. It felt like silk running through her fingers.

  “She’s gorgeous,” Eda said. “She looks just like you.”

  “It’s worth it,” Frankie said. “These kids we’re bringing up right here, they’re the future.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Eda said.

  “It’s decision time Eda,” Lex said, still standing at the top of the stairs like a giant guard. Her green eyes burned a hole through Eda from afar. “Are you with us?”

  “You have to make a choice.” Shay said. “Right here, right now. Will you remain among us as Helen of Troy and play your part in building a better tomorrow? Will you work with us towards creating a peaceful future? The price of true, lasting peace is always blood. Can you handle it Eda?”

  Eda exchanged tense looks with Frankie. Then she turned back to Shay.

  “What if I say no?”

  “Then you’re banished,” Shay said. “You take your chances out there in the desert with the rest of the human dirt. We need team players here in New York. You understand, I’m sure.”

  All eyes were on Eda.

  “Are you with us?” Frankie said, looking deep into Eda’s eyes.

  Eda sighed. “I’m with you,” she said in a quiet voice.

  Shay hurried forward and wrapped her arms around Eda in a tight, choke-like embrace. Lex’s gesture of approval consisted of a curt nod from the stairs. Elsewhere, the ex-Helens clapped their hands as if there was something to celebrate. Some of the older children clapped along with their mothers.

  After the applause had died down, Eda turned back to Frankie. She threw her arms around her old friend, burying her face in the warm skin of the woman’s neck.

  She whispered softly in Frankie’s ear.

  “I hope I’m not pregnant.”

  10

  It had been weeks since the killing of George Mitford.

  The murder itself had slipped into the dark corners of Eda’s mind. There were no nightmares, despite the horrific brutality of the act that she’d witnessed that day. Mitford’s bloody and terrified face, along with the high-pitched shrieking noises he’d made as he begged for his life, had stayed away from her dreams.

  A new horror had replaced the Mitford killing and it was a much more prolonged nightmare, something that Eda couldn’t wake up from, no matter how much she wanted to. It was her life as Helen of Troy. She was becoming numb to the routine – to the same things happening at the exact same time every day. Seeing the same faces all the time. In the morning, Eda would get up early and exercise with Lex in Central Park. After that, she’d come back to the hotel and eat whatever Linda had prepared for breakfast. For the rest of the day, her time was her own but the options were limited to say the least. When Frankie Boy came back from his morning walk with Lucia, Eda would curl up on the bed or on the couch with the dog and a book. Only lunch and dinner broke up the rest of that day’s monotony.

  Most of the time she wanted to go out, alone. But she knew what they’d say if she asked. Too risky. The other women in the Complex couldn’t see her and so on and so on.

  She was a prisoner.

  Eda’s heart would beat faster every time she heard footsteps in the hallway outside the apartment. But there had been no other men since Mitford, thank God.

  One of the things that drove her crazy was that some of the women in the Waldorf had started calling her Helen. They’d slipped it in there as a joke at first but it was a joke that grew into a habit and a habit that spread like a virus. Eda was having none of it. She wouldn’t respond to anyone until they called her by her real name. Even so, she could do nothing about it when they called her Helen whilst talking to each other. And they did.

  Has Helen had her lunch yet? Is Helen back from her workout? Put those books back in Helen’s room will you?

  Despite the struggles, there was one thing to celebrate. Eda wasn’t pregnant. As time passed, she became clear on one thing – she didn’t want to have a dead man’s baby inside her. In fact, she didn’t want to become pregnant at all. Not ever. While she’d been overjoyed to see Frankie alive and well in the Roosevelt, Eda didn’t want to end up like that, moving from one prison to another like all the other Helens.

  The Frankie she knew and loved was gone – it was a hard thing to accept but Eda had felt it strongly in the Roosevelt, standing beside her old friend. The old Frankie had been every bit as restless as Eda. She would have balked at the idea of being trapped in one place with a baby. Thinking back, Eda would recall how the two friends had often tramped the boundaries of the Complex together, peering towards the unknown and daring one another to trek further, to go explore the dangerous secrets of New York.

  And it had been Frankie’s plight, perhaps more than anything else, that had inspired Eda’s final decision.

  She was going to escape.

  Had to escape.

  She had to get out of New York before another man came along and put a baby inside her. But of course, Shay wasn’t just going to let Eda walk away from the Waldorf anytime soon. Eda was Helen, Helen was Eda and she would be until she became pregnant. It’s not like there was a clear-cut replacement waiting in the wings either – the younger, prettier women in Manhattan were already few and far between. It was hard to envision where the next Helen would come from and until that decision had to be made, Shay wasn’t about to let a perfectly good candidate walk away.

  So it was escape or nothing.

  That morning, Eda lay on the bed with Frankie Boy at her side. She’d just come back from a light run with Lex and it was still early in the morning. As Eda stroked the dog’s head gently, she listened as Lucia swept the floor elsewhere in the apartment. The old woman was singing a Spanish ballad to herself and the music was accompanied by
the monotonous rhythm of the brush fibers stroking the wood as she cleaned.

  Eda waited. She knew Lucia would come to her sooner or later.

  She looked at Frankie Boy who was still sleepy. The dog opened his eyes and looked back at her.

  “I’ll ask her today,” Eda said. “I’m not putting it off anymore.”

  Frankie Boy’s black nose twitched. Then he closed his eyes again.

  Eda looked at the door, waiting for Lucia to poke her head through the gap. Her fingers clutched the soft bed sheets and she squeezed tight.

  “C’mon,” she said.

  When Lucia eventually showed up, brush still in hand, she was her usual cheerful self. She was whistling a new song now, the melody more upbeat than the mournful ballad of earlier.

  “Good morning child!” Lucia said. “How is the great and beautiful Helen of Troy today?”

  She walked over and kissed Eda on the head. Then she rubbed Frankie Boy’s back vigorously, the dog responding to this by rolling onto his back and exposing his underside to her. Lucia obliged with a quick belly rub.

  “And Linda always says to watch out because you’re a wild animal,” Lucia said, talking to Frankie Boy in a silly voice. “That you could turn on any one of us at any moment, huh? What does she know Frankie Boy? Huh? What does she know?”

  Nobody in the Complex had a bad word to say about Lucia. During her time as Helen, Eda had found out only a little snippet of information about the cleaner’s past. She knew that Lucia came from a large Mexican-American family and that she’d had nine children, as well as a husband and a small menagerie of pets before the war. Everyone she’d ever loved was gone, taken by the war or the wild years. Eda wanted to know more – to ask how Lucia had survived but of course it was a delicate subject. She felt intuitively that underneath all that surface laughter, the old woman was nursing a broken heart, one that would shatter into a thousand pieces if poked too harshly by the wrong questions.

  Lucia was about to start wiping down the surfaces in the bedroom when she looked at Eda. Her smile faded.

 

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