Poisoned Garden Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  What's Next?

  Poisoned Garden | Eden’s Bluff Academy Book 1

  Copyright © 2020 by Tracy Korn. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental. Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without the express written consent of the author is strictly prohibited.

  Snowy Wings Publishing. Turner, OR

  www.SnowyWingsPublishing.com

  Cover Design Copyright © 2020 by James Korn

  www.jkornphoto.com

  Chapter 1

  I didn't need the walking stick—at least not for walking. It was dumb I guess, but carrying it just made me feel better.

  I called this part of the woods the eye because everything seemed to stop down this stretch. No birds, no breeze, just the sound of my own breathing and footsteps.

  Mercy Creek flanked the right side of the path, though it was more like white water rapids than a creek, and a steep, banded rock wall rose up on the left. I'd have gone any other way to get to school, but given the rather inconvenient landscape on either side of the eye, it was the only way to get from my house to Portland Prep.

  Like I always did at the beginning of this path, I tried to focus on the sound of the birds and the breeze blowing through the leaves. I wanted to hear the exact moment everything stopped, but no matter how hard I focused, I could never pinpoint when it happened. It weirded me out to think about it, so I pushed the whole thing out of my mind and concentrated on the worn, dirt path before me.

  The air almost immediately felt different after just a few steps—heavier somehow like an invisible weighted blanket was sliding over me. It even felt like I was walking more slowly, though my pace was never quicker in any other part of these woods.

  "You want to live forever?" a man's voice said, which stopped me in my tracks. In the years I'd been walking this path to and from school, there was never another soul on it coming or going. The man stepped into the shadows several yards ahead. "Time is money these days…" he added, and I nearly fell backward in shock before extending my walking stick out like a spear.

  "Leave me alone!" My voice was shaky thanks to the adrenaline hitting my bloodstream. He took a few steps toward me, into the light, and to my surprise, he didn't seem much older than I was. His new-looking hoodie paired with the significant lack of grease and patches on his jeans made it pretty clear he wasn't from The Grind, as we referred to everything here outside The Citadel wall.

  "They say legacy debt isn't population control, but do you see the politicians with any?" the man said, pushing the hood off his head to reveal a mass of black, wavy hair. His eyes were dark and his skin was unnaturally pale, but it was his smile that was the most disturbing. It was too polished, like he'd somehow taken it straight off the face of one of those politicians he was just talking about.

  "Get out of my way."

  He eyed my backpack. "Going to school? Trying to get Authorized?" he asked, his grin widening. "The Citadel will cost you twenty years," he said, then raised an inky eyebrow at me. "Unless you've got the cash for tuition. You got the cash, sweetheart?"

  "I have to go," I answered. "Get out of my way." I brandished the walking stick as I took a few steps forward.

  "Red, blue, yellow… They'll all make you immortal. You could go through The Citadel a hundred times," he said, pulling three small vials out of his hoodie pocket and shaking them gently at his side. "All your legacy debt, gone—poof, just like if you were a politician. Don't even have to shoot these anymore. Just pick a color and drink."

  "I said leave me alone. Back up." I took a few more steps toward him, keeping him at the end of my stick, but I pictured him grabbing it. If he did, I'd let go and run. I could tell he was stronger than I was, and I wouldn't win a tug of war.

  That was the plan, then. Just let go and run.

  But he didn't grab the end of the walking stick. He just pushed his smile to the corner of his mouth and held up his hands in mock surrender, folding his fingers over the three vials.

  "Run along to school then," he said, his unblinking, dark eyes staring straight into mine. I didn't want to turn my back on him, so I walked backward the rest of the way down the path until I made it across the threshold of the woods.

  I almost stumbled as my feet turned over on the sloping hill that led down to the street. There was no sign of the man following me, but I was still hesitant to turn my back to the woods. Where had he even come from, especially this early in the morning? My heart drummed in my chest and my skin began to prickle—physiological responses, I told myself. Just like they said in psychology class. Fight or flight, then fear…

  I turned to face forward slowly, checking over my shoulder every few seconds just to be sure I wasn't being followed. After confirming three or four times that I wasn't, I started to relax.

  It was several more minutes before the rest of the adrenaline finally cleared out of my system, and I took a few deep breaths to settle my nerves once and for all. It was still too early for most people in The Grind to be on the streets, so I didn't worry about slowing down as I made my way to the prison on earth that was Portland Prep. I'd never dream of doing that on the walk home, or I might not make it home, even carrying a big stick.

  There had been six Feral attacks in the last few months—people just becoming randomly violent and then disappearing without a trace, so it took weeks to connect the dots between the missing persons reports and the crime scenes. The Citadel Pathology Center kept telling everyone the Feral attacks were caused by a virus called Red Fever, and The Citadel promptly posted extra security around their precious walled city. They also kept saying the pathologists were close to a cure, but close didn't mean anything in the meantime, and some people, like my Uncle Ray, didn't even believe it was a real disease. He thought it was just the pent-up hostility from the oppressed people in The Grind finally coming to a boiling point. With any luck, next semester I'd be at The Citadel where there were no Feral attacks, regardless of the cause.

  The man in the woods had been right about one thing, though. I didn't have the cash to go even if I did get in. It would cost me twenty years of my life in legacy credits. According to the census, my natural expiration date would be at eighty-seven years, four months, seventeen days…blah blah blah. How did I feel about dying at sixty-seven years instead if I didn't manage to land a career with social percentage? It would be worth it to live behind The Citadel wall until then.

  There was a hard pull on my backpack, but as I turned, I was pushed against one of the crumbling building walls. I started to maneuver my walking stick to hit the person in the head, but then stopped myself when I heard familiar, idiotic laughing.

  "Max! You scu
d! I almost bashed your head in!" I said, pushing him off me. He could barely catch his breath because he was laughing so hard. "You think it's funny you almost got your brains splattered all over the sidewalk?" I tried to keep my stern expression in place, but it was hard not to laugh when he actually lay flat on the sidewalk with his arms over his eyes, still laughing.

  "Your face…" he sputtered.

  "Yeah, hilarious."

  "OK, sorry…sorry…" He regained his composure just long enough to lose it again when he looked at me. I rolled my eyes and started walking the rest of the way to school. "Wait! OK, wait…" Max said, scrambling to his feet.

  He was just over six feet tall and a sprinter on the track team, so it wasn't long before he caught up to me.

  "Don't ever do that again. I thought you were some Feral," I chided, watching him struggle to keep a straight face.

  "Sorry, you were just off in space or something," he said, his blue eyes extra bright after laughing so much they'd become glassy. He scrubbed his hands over his face, then pushed them quickly through his blond, shaggy hair like he'd just come out of the water. "Gotta pay attention out here, you know? I was just keeping you on your toes," he added.

  I glared at him and gestured to my walking stick. "Why do you think I carry this?"

  Max narrowed his eyes at me and pressed his lips into a hard line. "All right, what's really wrong?" He crossed in front of me and walked backward at a snail's pace.

  "Move, Max." I tried to dart around him, but he was too fast. We'd been best friends since elementary school, and I could never hide anything from him.

  "Tell me what happened?" he asked, all traces of levity gone now. "Was it Alice? Did she tell you you're the salad antichrist or whatever again?"

  "No." I pressed my lips together to keep back the imminent smile. My aunt Alice had, in fact, and not too long ago, accused me of being an actual-from-Hell demon when her garden was raided by animals a few days after I'd weeded it.

  "You don't have to live way up on that hill with them, Halsey," Max said, moving back to my side. "My parents said the offer still stands to stay with us."

  "As much as I wish I could, you know I can't." I glanced at him.

  "You really believe putting your aunt and uncle on your application to The Citadel is going to help anything?"

  "Better than putting orphan who lives with her best friend's parents because her next of kin are superstitious nutwhacks," I answered.

  "I'm sure even The Citadel would understand about your parents getting sick. The wasting hit a lot of people."

  "Oh, I'm sure they would too, so long as I'm living with my aunt and uncle," I nodded at him. "The last thing I want to do is to have to answer questions about why I live with a guy my age and his family instead of my perfectly alive relatives. You know the system. The Citadel doesn't want people who can't fit their mold."

  Max shook his head in resignation. "Which is exactly why it baffles me that you're so hell-bent on going there."

  The street was starting to get busier with people rolling up the gates to their shops. Mr. Burke, the supermarket owner, opened the doors and let his two new, enormous dogs come through to the sidewalk.

  "Heel, Draco—Heel Fate," he said, tying his red apron. Both huge, black dogs stopped in place and sat like statues.

  "Are they on duty yet?" Max called to Mr. Burke, who smiled.

  "Not yet, go ahead. Relax!" Mr. Burke said to the dogs, who immediately started wagging their tails and leaning into Max when he approached, which nearly knocked him over. I took a few steps forward, and both dogs dropped to their bellies, putting their heads on their front paws.

  "Whoa…" I said, surprised.

  "Wow, they like you I guess. Come on, they're big babies." Max motioned me over. "Aren't you a big baby, Fate? Yes, you are…" he cooed to the dog in front of him, which earned him a tongue bath.

  "Ewww…" I laughed, kneeling to pet Draco's thick scruff. He moved to a sitting position and buried his head under my chin. "Aww," I said, resting my cheek on the top of his furry head.

  "They're good pups—brother and sister," Mr. Burke said with a nod to me. "They know what you're all about before you even get through the door—Feral or otherwise," he added. "Had some hooligans come in yesterday afternoon and these two turned them right around."

  "You keep the trouble out," Max said. "Don't you keep the trouble out, you smart girl?" he cooed again, this time fishing a few treats he'd brought from his pocket and slipping one to each dog. "I'll see you after school then," he said to Fate with a final head rub.

  "We've got a truck today, so don't be late." Mr. Burke winked at Max.

  "No, sir. See you then."

  Mr. Burke nodded, then turned to the dogs. "On guard!" he said, and both of them dutifully leapt inside, posting themselves again like statues on the cushions flanking the register.

  "Wow," I said, marveling at how well they listened. "When did those guys arrive?"

  "Beginning of the week," Max answered. "They've neutralized a lot of the tension in the place already, believe it or not. Everyone loves them. That is, except for people who have intentions other than picking up their grocery order."

  "I bet."

  "Weird how they dropped to the ground like that. I haven't seen them do that before with anyone, not even Mrs. Burke, who slips each of them pieces of steak when the old man takes one of them out back to go to the bathroom." He laughed as we walked.

  I shrugged. "Well, they're definitely well behaved. You save up enough credits yet to fix your car?"

  "Almost," Max answered. "This summer should do it."

  "You're really not going to apply to The Citadel?"

  Max sighed. "Halls…come on."

  "You could get in if you tried. I know you could. You have the grades, you run track, you're their model student—more than me even because you have both parents."

  "I don't know. Ask me later. We have other problems right now," he said as we approached the front steps of Portland Prep, which were mostly obscured by the swarm of flies known as Brian Dunwin and his band of degenerates. One by one, each of them lifted their eyes to us, stupid grins peeled across their faces as they started walking toward us.

  Chapter 2

  "Since when do they show up before third period?" I asked Max under my breath.

  "Internship fair today, remember?" he answered. I swore under my breath, totally having forgotten about internship selections with my focus being on my Citadel application.

  "Oh, right…" I groaned.

  "Did you forget? Halls, not to be an ass, but you can't count on the Citadel." Max's voice had an edge in it now, but I wasn't sure if that was because of his impatience with me, or the imminent harassment we were about to endure from Brian and his band of merry idiots.

  Brian got to his feet as we approached while his minions spread out on either side of him, blocking the doors.

  We stopped at the bottom of the steps. "Get out of the way, Brian," Max said, trying to sound intimidating.

  Brian laughed and pushed a dirty hand over his buzzed hair as he took another step toward us. "Or you'll do what, Barrett?"

  Max sighed, apparently not having prepared a rebuttal.

  "Come on, let's just go," I said, pulling Max's elbow.

  "Yeah, go on, Max. Balls here can't be late for her before school quickie with Warren." Brian's gaggle of delinquents squawked and laughed, and when I turned back to them, they acted out their ignorant sound effects with obscene pantomimes.

  Max took a few purposeful steps toward Brian, but I gripped his arm. They wouldn't hesitate to beat him half to death if he tried to stand up for me. I, on the other hand, had an idea.

  "It's OK," I said to Max, taking a few steps toward Brian, forcing myself to paste a sweet smile on my face and maintain eye contact with him, which was about impossible. "Brian, if only you wouldn't make it so hard to get close to you…surrounding yourself with all these guys," I said, slow and wide-eyed, then took a few
more steps toward him. "It's a little intimidating for a girl to let you know how she really feels."

  "Halsey," Max said. I ignored him, hoping he would just trust me.

  Brian's mouth twitched as he came down another step. "Is that so…"

  I nodded. "What could I possibly want with Mr. Warren when you're right here?"

  He took one more step, his legs just far enough apart for me to whip the end of my walking stick into his crotch as hard as I could. He dropped like an invisible piano had landed on him, and his fledglings all groaned and doubled over in various degrees of sympathy pain. Max's eyes were wide when I turned back to him, his mouth frozen in a reaction that was equal parts ghost pain, shock, and uncontrollable laughter. We walked past Brian, who was writhing on the ground, and made our way up the steps into the school.

  "Halls!" Max finally said, not sure which expression to wear—shock, hilarity, or pain. "OK, you know they're going to come after you. That's bad."

  "I'll get a Sweeper droid to escort me home," I said casually, but in reality, my heart was pounding so hard I was surprised Max couldn't hear it.

  "I don't even know if they'll wait that long." Max pulled me toward a janitor's closet since people were starting to raise eyebrows at my walking stick. "Just put that in here for now," he said, opening the door. "I'll make sure Marvin doesn't get rid of it." Marvin was the day custodian, and fortunately, he had no great love for Brian or his buddies. "We need to go to Mr. Glenn."

  I shook my head. "He's not going to do anything."

  "No, not if we don't tell him."

  "Max, I can't deal with this right now. I didn't prepare anything for the internship selections. I don't even know who's here."

  He rolled his eyes, then scanned the hall in both directions. "All right, look, just don't go anywhere alone today, OK? Not to the bathroom or anything. Somehow that bag of dicks has friends who are girls too, you know? He'll try to set you up when he thinks no one will be watching."

  "You're giving him too much credit, Max." I tried to laugh, but I hadn't actually thought of that, so the casualness I was going for fell flat. "He's not that smart, remember?"