3.1 In to the Garden

The creature knew only one name for itself. Dumpster. They laughed when they said it, but he did not care. The name fit him and he was not one to complain. His body looked like something that was once human, although he had no memory of being so. He remembered very little before the fire. He awoke from the fire in, aptly enough, a dumpster. His skin bulged at strange places, and his spine bent at a strange angle. One shoulder rose as high as his bulbous head, and the hair that grew upon it melded with the tangles atop his head. His face would make even Quasimodo shutter. No nose was visible, just a slight slit where a nostril might be. His mouth was little more than a twisted slit below the nostril. One massive eye bulged on the right side of his head. The other twisted off on his left cheek, giving him a view of his side at all times. His skin festered and rotted on his body, and more than one insect resided in the legions upon his frame.

He lived on the streets of the Divide, in the small strip of land that split the Q-Zone from City Center. Most people called it the Alley, although Dumpster did not know that it was because of its long narrow shape. It served as a demilitarized zone between Mr. Mayor and his Cabinet and the forces of The Great Question. Only the lowliest of the low in the Divide stayed for more than a few moments in the Alley. It consisted of one street, its name long lost, and the buildings on either side. Past those buildings one would walk in to one of the opposing territories. They were Dumpster’s people, no matter how they treated their would-be protector. Dumpster walked the streets of the Alley, always looking for the next good deed he could try, and almost certainly fail, to perform.

That was exactly what the creature was doing far below Able. Able watched from a top one of the blasted-out buildings of the Alley as Dumpster made its way through. He didn’t know quite what to make of this metahuman presence, but he knew it certainly wasn’t the one he sought. Nonetheless something seemed to draw him to the strange figure. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but he knew that this monstrosity was connected to his goal. He made his way down to the surface on a drift of heated air and made to follow him.

Dumpster didn’t seem to notice his presence. If anyone on the street realized he was following the creature they didn’t seem to care. The monster shambled farther down the street, making good time on his scrawny legs through the hovels that made up most of the homes of the Alley’s residents. He suddenly turned and shambled in to a building, and Able struggled to hurry through the cluttered street to follow.

He threw open the door to the building to find little more than a loose stone frame burned black on Judgment Day. A stairway lead down to a doorway. The door swung closed just as Able entered the building. He rushed down the stairs and yanked at the door handle but it would not budge.

He felt the shambling presence of Dumpster move farther away. Able rested his hands on the door handle and pumped his flames in to it. The handle melted in his hands, the lock with it. He easily shoved the door open and made his way up another set of stairs.

Dumpster sensed the other like him as he entered the Garden. He didn’t know who this strange power source was behind him. He didn’t really care. The Secret Garden was a place of peace, and all who found it could visit at least once.

Able followed the creature in to a strange clearing. They were still surrounded by the broken buildings of the Alley, but above them the sun shone brightly. No layer of smog and haze covered this place like it did the rest of the city. Which would serve it well, he supposed, as every inch of stone and earth was covered by some kind of vegetation. Dumpster made his way through it, but even his oversized feet and strange gait didn’t seem to disturb any of the plant life around him.

Able walked in to the garden, as he already knew he was exposed to anyone who wanted to see him here. Dumpster turned to look at him. The larger of the half-man’s two eyes opened wide to study Able as he walked by.

“What is this place?” Able said.

“Is the Secret Garden, it is,” Dumpster said. “Is most glorious place, filled with much goodness and light. Yes, sir.”

Able ignored Dumpster as he continued in to the garden. It seemed to stretch out all around him, yet the space was rather small.

As he turned to examine a tropical flower he doubted could ever grow in this northern clime, a figure emerged, seemingly from the forest itself. He wore a simple robe, dark brown in color. His hair and long, flowing beard matched the lavish green of the vegetation around him. A few inches behind him, a girl also appeared. She looked no older than fourteen, but Able had been to enough brothels in his time to recognize the air of youth on someone much older. He figured her to be at least nineteen or twenty, even though she didn’t even reach five feet. Her hair was pink, her nose and lower lip each pierced. She wore a halter top, large black boots, and a pair of tight abbreviated jeans. She sneered at him as he looked her over.

“Who are you?” Able said to them. “What is this place?”

The bearded man reached out and stroked a lily growing from the wall. The flower seemed to reach out as he touched it. In seconds it grew even larger and lusher in his hand. “Our friend Dumpster has the right of it. Though this place has no name, the Secret Garden is a good enough name as any.”

He looked to the young woman beside him. “My companion’s name is Flower, aptly enough. Like Dumpster before her, and you now, she found her way here by accident. She has returned time and again to experience the comfort given by the Garden. As for myself, I have had many names over the year, but you may simply call me the Gardener.”

Able looked at the deformed creature, the girl, and the Gardener each in turn. He tried to grasp at just what the hell was going on around him. Dumpster and Flower both read as metahumans in his sixth sense, but the Gardener… Never before had he seen anything even closer to the Gardener. His aura glowed like that of a metahuman, but despite the glow of power, he still read as a baseline human. Whatever or whoever this Gardener might be, he wasn’t normal.

“What is normal, Able? Normal is a word used by conformists to try to define something that does not exist.” Able glared at the bearded man. Gardener smiled. “Oh, yes, you’re an open book to me. I can feel your hatred, your fears, your wants, your needs. I know the name you hide from the world, and I know what you seek and how you can find it. But I ask you this: will finding your treasure really solve anything?”

Able flew towards the Gardener. His hands burst in to flames as he grabbed the man by the robe and lifted him in to the air. “Don’t play games with me or I will burn you and your garden to the ground, old man!”

The Gardener smiled at him. “You are welcome to try, but I doubt your flames could overcome the magic of this place.” He twisted his arms around and grabbed both of Able’s wrists. Despite the flame that sheathed them, they did not burn the old man. He pulled Able’s hands away from his robe.

“No harm can be done in the Garden. It is the nature of this place. The power that lies here protects all living things that enter it. It grants them energy, vitality, and life. It is nature empowered. All grow in the Garden, not just the plants.”

“Why? What does all this mean?”

“You will come to understand in time, Able. For now you should remember this place of power.” He poked Able in the chest, just above the heart. “Do you feel its power working on you? Remember that feeling. If you embrace it, let it change you, you will be able to visit the Garden many more times. If you refuse it, I doubt you will ever find your way back here again.”

Able shook his head. “You’re all insane. You ascribe some strange power to what is obviously just another fluke in this damned place. I don’t care about your Garden, I just want to get out of this place and continue my search. Somewhere in this godforsaken hole I will find what I’m looking for.”

Gardener shook his head. “I doubt very much you will find what you are looking for. I do not even think you truly know what that is.” He gave Able a weak smile, but the young Canadian’s calm, cold demeanor did not change. “Very well, have it your way. I know not its exact location, but you will find what you seek in City Center. Let the forces that reside there guide you to your target.”

“How do you know this, old man?”

“I know of everything that passes by these walls. It is enough to know the happenings of this scarred land, if not bring change to it.” He looked towards Dumpster and Flower, before he turned back to Able. “That I must do one person at a time.”

He shook his head and walked away from Able. He turned to glance over his shoulder. “I suspect your quest is only beginning, sir. I beg you to reconsider your path, else it be too late. Flower will lead you out.”

“What the fuck?” Flower’s abrasive tone came as a shock after the Gardener’s calm, reserved demeanor. “Why do I always have to be the goddamn tour guide and shit? Fuck that noise, Gardener!”

Able grinned until she turned and glared at him. “Come the fuck on if you’re coming,” she said and stomped past him.

He followed the girl back down the way they came, but now the door seemed newer, better built. The lock was whole, undamaged. She reached down and turned it. The lock clicked open and they passed through in to what looked like a vacant office building.

“Where are…”

“City center,” Flower said. “Ain’t that where you fucking want to be?”

“Uh, yeah, yes it is.” He walked over to the glass windows and peered down in to the streets below. A battle raged beneath him in the streets. He could clearly make out Mr. Mayor and some kind of flaming man in the midst of two small armies of locals battling one another. “How did we get here? The door…”

He turned, but Flower was gone. He threw the open the door. Inside he found a mop, broom, dustpan, cleaning chemicals. The normal things one might find inside a broom closet.

Silently cursing, he turned to watch the battle play out below.