Flowertown (8 page)

Ellie laughed. “What can I say? It’s my way.” She hung up the phone on his curses. Big Martha would need a heads-up if Bing was going to bring the foul-smelling soup upstairs. Ellie very rarely got nauseated anymore, but if anything could do it, it was the odor of that concoction. As she headed to the front of the office, Ellie stopped and looked at the guard.

“Do you feel okay? Oh my God, you are really green.” Keeping the potential for vomit forefront in the mind was crucial to success. Symptom lists helped. “You’re sweating so much. Can I get you something? A drink? A towel? Your lips are absolutely gray.”

“I’m fine, ma’am. Please step away from the secure zone.” His nostrils flared as he tried not to gulp air. His lips were papery dry, and Ellie knew he would die before he would lick them in front of her. For now.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be happy to get you a Coke or something. Something cold.” As she spoke, she made a point of swinging her hair and swaying from side to side, knowing the motion would make his stomach roll. “So I’m going over there,” big hand gesture toward Martha, “and I’ve got crackers in my desk,” another big hand swing in the opposite direction, and the young guard closed his eyes and blew out a breath. He reopened his eyes quickly and focused over her shoulder.

“Just let me know if you need anything. Believe me, we’ve all been through it.” Ellie started walking again and then turned quickly, getting very close to the guard. “But if you puke, you have to clean it up. Every chunky drop.
Remember that.” Without waiting to see his response, she made her way to Big Martha’s desk and hopped up on the corner. The smaller desk across from her was empty.

“Where’s Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong?” Ellie asked, referring to the missing new girl.

“Asked for another transfer. Said the conditions were hostile.”

“Waaaah. Speaking of hostile, Bing is bringing up his Japanese soup.”

“No, he is not.” Big Martha looked up at her with a glare that brooked no question. “I told him the last time he brought it up that I would beat him so badly he’d fit inside the can. And then I’d run it over with an army truck.”

“I know, but…”

“And another thing.” Big Martha waved a pen at Ellie. “This may come as a huge surprise to you, but there is actually work that does need to be done around here. You didn’t happen to notice that big stack of folders that showed up on your desk, did you? Ever wonder what’s supposed to happen to those?”

“I know, Martha, I know.” Ellie bumped her feet against her boss’s desk. “It’s just that it’s really hard to work with company. Especially when that company doesn’t feel so good.”

Big Martha leaned back in her chair. “You mean our new guest?” Ellie nodded. “Do you know that he told me that you and I were to sign in with him every morning and sign out at night before we left?”

“I didn’t sign in with him.”

“Because I set him straight on that matter.” Big Martha needed to say no more. Getting set straight by Big Martha
was something nobody needed to experience twice. “So do you and Bing have a puke pool going on this guy?”

“Sort of. Want in?”

Big Martha rose from her chair to see the suffering young man standing across the room. “Aw shit, that’s a sucker’s bet. He won’t last another fifteen. Especially if that nasty soup fouls up the air.”

“Who’s criticizing my soup?” The smell preceded Bing into the office, and both Ellie and Big Martha blew out disgusted breaths.

“Jesus, Bing.” Ellie fanned under her nose. “That would be the smell salt would have if it could have body odor.”

“And a dead mouse in its pocket,” Big Martha said.

Bing sipped from his oversized mug. “I’m telling you guys, you should try it. It’s really delicious, and Walmart had it three for a dollar.”

“You were robbed. Did you bring my chili?”

Bing held up the grocery bag. “First I want to know who, what, and why.”

Ellie shrugged over her shoulder. “Remember the delightful Mr. Carpenter who threatened to arrest me for stepping onto the red paint zone? Well, he has decided to enforce his will with an armed guard.”

“Feno?”

“Of course. Newbie. Sweating like a whore in church.”

Big Martha laughed. “I hope you didn’t bet anything on this tummy-tip, Bing, because this kid is going down fast.”

“I’ve got no money on it, Martha. This sounds like it’s personal for Ellie.”

“It is.” Ellie folded her arms and scowled. “I don’t like people coming in here and trying to throw their weight
around. I have never given half a shit what was in those boxes, and now they’re treating me like I’m a security threat.” She almost spilled the beans on her plan to steal a box of files but didn’t want to take a chance of implicating her friends if she got caught. She doubted very seriously if there was anything worth getting in trouble for in those boxes, but if she got caught, she wouldn’t take her friends down with her. “I just think we should make it clear that Feno authority is no stronger than their weakest stomach.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Ellie and Big Martha spoke as one. “Eat your soup.”

“I’m going to go heat up this chili and do a little splash and dash.” Ellie grabbed a can from the grocery bag in Bing’s hand and headed for the little kitchenette off the center of the office, on the other side of the bathrooms from where the guard stood.

She dumped the can into a big mug like Bing’s and waited for the old microwave to heat it up enough to smell. Of course even if the chili were rancid it couldn’t smell worse than her friend’s soup, but she also needed the meaty chili warm enough to be runny. If this worked, she hoped her friends would stay at the front of the office long enough for her to make the box switch. From the small alcove she couldn’t see anyone else in the room. One advantage of the clutter in the records office was that there was no clear line of sight from one end to the other. She would have to be fast, though.

She nearly dropped the hot cup of chili as she pulled it from the microwave when Big Martha popped her head into the kitchenette. “All set, Ellie?”

Ellie scooped up a spoonful of the chili and let it splatter back into the mug. “It seems a shame to waste perfectly good chili on this guy, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”

“How about a little insurance policy?” Big Martha held up her thick fist. “If you’re up to it, this is a trick I learned from Clancy down at the maintenance depot. I warn you, it’s not pretty, but it’s ninety-nine point nine-nine percent effective if used orally.” Ellie nodded, and the other woman opened her hand, revealing her fail-safe secret weapon. Just the sight of it, much less the idea of it, almost made Ellie gag and she immediately agreed.

“Martha, I have never known a sicker and more disturbed individual.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You might want to keep your distance.”

Ellie took the cup of chili and headed back toward her desk. She had to steel herself for what she was about to do. It really wouldn’t help if she threw up too, and only six years of contamination gave her the gastric fortitude to pull this off. The smell of Bing’s soup hovered in the air like nuclear fallout, and Ellie could see the young Feno guard struggling mightily to control his body. Good luck with that, buddy, she thought as she stirred her chili, keeping track of Big Martha’s secret weapon within it.

“How you feeling?” Ellie asked. “You still don’t look so good. Sure you don’t want a cold drink or something?” The guard said nothing, just clamped his lips together, forcing him to breathe through his nose. “Oh, you might not want to breathe too deeply in here. My buddy’s eating this soup
that smells so foul. Can you smell it? It smells like decomposing flesh. Like bloated, green rot, doesn’t it? Can you smell it?”

She stirred her chili, making loud squishing sounds within the mug. “See, that’s why I’m eating this chili. I had it left over from last night. Left it in the fridge. Want some?” She held the mug out for him to take a peek, which he refused. “I sure hope nobody screwed with it. You know how people are, always fucking with other people’s stuff.” She wished the kid would just vomit already so she wouldn’t have to take the next step, but she gave him credit. He was hanging tough. With a sigh, she scooped up her bowl’s secret and shoved it in her mouth.

“Mmm.” Ellie fought her own gag reflex then let out a cry. “What the fuck?” Reaching into her mouth with two fingers, Ellie began to draw out the matted clump of hair Big Martha had slipped her. Long strands tangled up with clumps of meat and tomato skins, and she tried not to think of what she was doing as she let the greasy, matted hair slip out from between her lips. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled the chili-soaked clump of hair onto the arm of the security guard as she threw the cup to the floor to shatter in a red, chunky splatter.

It was almost enough to make
her
vomit. The young guard didn’t stand a chance.

He clamped his hands over his mouth as vomit sprayed between his fingers. Ellie pointed him toward the bathrooms, and as he ran, he slipped in the chili and vomit flew from his lips like wet confetti. She could hear Big Martha and Bing laughing their asses off in the front of the office as she jumped over boxes to get to her desk. Not waiting to see
if it was safe, Ellie grabbed the closest unmarked file box, dashed onto the red paint and pulled off the top center box from the secure pile, and then slid out the one beneath it. She pitched her own file box in that one’s place, returned a red-taped box to the top, and shoved the swiped box under her desk just as Bing’s heavy footsteps and applause approached.

“Would you like to make the announcement or shall I?” He planted his elbows on the nearest file cabinet, his chin in his hands.

“Why don’t you?” Ellie handed him her office phone receiver and punched “Page.”

Bing cleared his throat and got on the all-call. “Maintenance. Maintenance. Could we get maintenance to the records office for a cleanup? We have a digestive disturbance in records. Thank you.” He hung up the phone. “Wait for it.”

A few seconds ticked off and someone got on the all-call system. “Newbie pussy!” Applause could be heard coming from the offices downstairs. Ellie laughed and clapped and kicked back in her seat, her feet resting on a hidden box sealed with red tape.

Ellie couldn’t pull her feet down from the box beneath her desk. It wasn’t like it was full of live puppies, but somehow she thought it would give its presence away to the guard, to Bing, to anyone who might be interested, and the thought of getting caught doing something so stupid made Ellie’s fingers tingle. She pulled her chair in close, her knees bumping the crooked middle drawer, and laughed along with Bing. The guard didn’t stay in the bathroom long and beat the maintenance crew to the scene of the crime by a good ten minutes. The office smelled horrific, and even though they laughed, Ellie and her coworkers gave unspoken respect to the ailing guard for not only returning, but dropping a load of paper towels down over his mess. They knew what the smell and the sight were doing to his stomach; they were all long-term residents of Flowertown. It showed grit to face your own sick mess, especially under the teasing gaze of those who’d brought it on.

He couldn’t make himself pick up the wet towels. As soon as the liquid began soaking into the brown paper, he righted himself and stepped several feet away from the site.
Big Martha had returned to her desk, and Bing and Ellie turned away from the young guard. Ellie knew he wanted to come over to the desk and threaten her with that gun he still had slung over his back. She could see him fighting that urge as much as he fought his own vomit, but whoever had trained him in Flowertown ways had obviously done a good job. Everyone knew that the only thing funnier to the jaded long-termers than making a newbie puke was watching said newbie then throw a hissy fit afterward. It was considered something of a comic encore, and the young guard struggled mightily to control his temper.

He marched the perimeter of the red paint zone. Bing bit back a laugh as the heavy footsteps stomped beside Ellie’s desk, the guard eyeing and measuring every inch of the secure zone. She hoped she looked convincing as she rolled her eyes at the guard’s attentiveness, praying she didn’t seem too obvious with almost half her body shoved into the cubby beneath her desk, trying to obscure even a glimpse of the stolen property. The guard walked the red paint line and then, keeping the giggling workers in his peripheral vision, marched between the stacks of boxes and file cabinets. Ellie tasted blood in her mouth from biting the inside of her cheek as the guard stopped at the stack of file boxes she had just disturbed. Had she gotten them lined up correctly? Had she missed some sort of secure marking only trained guards would spot?

Bing watched the guard watch them from the other side of the pile of boxes. He leaned in close to whisper to Ellie. “Do you think he’s taking a leak?” Ellie laughed so fast and so hard she snorted, and the guard stepped quickly out from behind the stack and resumed his post. Bing rapped
his knuckles on her desk in salute and good-bye and rose to leave, mouthing something about getting his weed back. Ellie waved him off and watched as he made a joke with the janitors who arrived to clean up the stinking mess. She couldn’t hear what they said, but when the three men burst out in loud laughter, she could see the gray face of the guard flush. It was a simple truth in Flowertown: it didn’t matter how big your gun was; you were always overshadowed by your puddle of vomit.

Ellie tried to concentrate on the folders in her inbox. She had made such a mess in her attempt to distract the guard that her desk was now littered with random folders from the boxes scattered around her desk. She knew she would have to pull her seat out of the cubbyhole eventually, and so, with a deep breath, she pushed off the box with both feet and rolled her chair back. The guard didn’t look her way. She doubted he ever would again. But if he glanced at her desk from the right angle when she was away from it, the game was up.

Taking a deep breath and a handful of files, Ellie began putting the files back in the proper boxes. The mindlessness of the task made her relax a bit, although she still desperately wanted to roll a short joint and smoke up at her desk. A bad idea, she knew, but in comparison to her last stunt, child’s play. The thought made her laugh out loud, and she caught the tension in the guard’s jaw. He thought she was still laughing at him, and Ellie reasoned that probably wasn’t the smartest psychological ploy. If ever there was a time to play nice, the moments after stealing classified documents was probably it. Ellie rose from the stack of boxes she was working in and headed toward the kitchenette, not looking at the guard as she passed.

She grabbed a can of no-name ginger ale from the refrigerator, paused for a moment, and grabbed a second. The guard watched her approach, doubtless dreading what she might have planned, and refused to meet her eye when she stopped in front of him. She held out both cans.

“It’s ginger ale. It will help.”

“Step away from the secure zone, ma’am.”

Ellie sighed and kept the cans held out before her. “Really. It is just ginger ale, and I haven’t opened either can. Your choice. I’ll drink the other.”

“You put a hairball in your mouth.” The guard swallowed hard just saying the words. “I don’t think I want to picnic with you again.”

“Funny.” Ellie popped the top of one can and took a drink. She read the sweat-soaked name tag sewn onto his shirt. “Cooper. It was nothing personal, you know.”

He shifted his eyes to her, not turning his head. “That’s a real comfort.”

“You know, I’ve been sitting next to those boxes for years and I’ve never once given a shit what was in them. Why are you here?”

He started to shrug but caught himself. “I go where they send me.”

Ellie was beginning to realize how unaccustomed she was to conversations in which she wasn’t high. She couldn’t seem to keep her mouth shut. “How do you know I didn’t rifle through your precious boxes while you were hurling chunks in the can? How do you know this wasn’t all an elaborate plan to thwart the dreaded Feno Red Guards?”

Cooper finally looked at her, from head to toe. “Because you don’t look that smart.”

“Why Cooper, was that a joke?”

“No.” He went back to staring into space over her shoulder, and she couldn’t tell if he was fighting off a smile.

“You didn’t call for backup. Why not?”

“Because I’m gonna take enough shit from you. I don’t need it from my coworkers.”

“That’s probably true.” She held out the unopened can. “So you might as well take a peace offering too. Trust me. I’ll make you pay for it later.”

He watched her for a long moment and then reached for the can. He took a small sip, probably expecting it to explode or taste like urine or some other horror, but when Ellie continued to drink hers as she headed back toward her desk, he relaxed and drank more deeply.

“This gonna kill me later?”

“Only time will tell.” Ellie pulled back up to her desk. “Guess you’re going to have to trust me.” The guard shook his head and continued sipping at his drink.

His attention diverted once more, Ellie felt less nervous reaching down to her feet for the box hidden there. Obviously she wouldn’t be able to carry the whole box out, so she was going to have to sneak a few files out at a time. She also knew she had to strip the box of its red security tape, and that wouldn’t be easy. For one thing, the sound would be very noticeable. Most of the boxes in the unsecure area simply had lids or were closed with the old-fashioned string and button closures. Only the Feno boxes were taped shut. Plus the tape itself was a bright, unmistakable shade of red. A big wad of tangled red tape would be noticed in a garbage can. If it was found wadded up in her desk,
well, it wouldn’t take Sherlock Holmes to piece the story together.

Ellie pulled a letter opener from the center drawer. In the six year she had worked in this office—actually, in the ten years she had worked in
any
office—she had never once used a letter opener to open an envelope of any type. She never really understood why she always seemed to have one in her desk. Now she knew. Letter openers were the modern equivalent of hairpins in the old film noirs she and Bing liked to watch—they were innocent-looking weapons of crime. Slipping the sharp silver blade down between her legs, she kept the guard in sight between the stacks of paper baskets on her desk while she felt for the tape. Trying to muffle the sound, she jammed the blade into the tape and split the seal. There was no turning back now. She had officially broken into Feno property.

When her phone buzzed, she jumped so high her arms and knees knocked against the shallow drawer above the cubby. The letter opener flew from her fingers and skittered across the top of the opened box, teetering for just a moment before sliding the wrong way off the cardboard, down to the floor and out from underneath the desk. She didn’t dare breathe as she peered over her inbox at Cooper, who ignored the ruckus. Ellie decided at that moment that she was going to kill whoever had texted her.

Med Center reminder—bloodwork 11am

A stream of filth flew from her lips as she righted herself in her chair, causing Cooper to glance her way quickly, then look away when he saw the dark expression on her face. There couldn’t be a worse time to have to go to the med center. That would mean leaving the box exposed,
uncovered. She couldn’t get the tape off. She had nothing to drape over the carton. If Cooper or Big Martha or even Bing thought of a reason to come back into her little corner, she would have some very tough questions to answer. But if she missed a med check, she knew the guards who would come for her would not be newbies like Cooper or even charming tough guys like Guy. The lesson had been well learned in the early days of contamination that Feno saved medical security duty for the hardest, coldest, and roughest of their forces. Nobody resisted med checks twice; nobody even argued with them. Feno and Barlay Pharma claimed it was all for the health of the residents, but nobody in Flowertown would forget the brutality the med force had shown in the early days. Nobody dared risk it now.

If she was going to get busted for stealing the box, she was at least going to see what was inside those files. Not caring if her guard watched, Ellie reached into the box and grabbed three folders from its center. A quick glance told her they were labeled with that same indecipherable alpha-numeric code on the outside of the box, so she figured any file was as good as the next. She couldn’t just walk out with files under her arm, she knew. Even the non-Feno files were under security watch. If it had been winter she could have shoved them up under the many layers of sweaters she would be wearing in the always-freezing office, but today all she had on was an old Cheap Trick T-shirt that wouldn’t hide a pack of cigarettes.

Then she saw the bag of groceries Bing had dropped beside her desk. God bless you, Annabeth Dingle, she thought, for sending Rachel those oyster crackers. The box wasn’t big enough to hide three manila folders, no matter
how tightly she tried to roll them, but if she slid the folders between the cracker box and her body, Ellie thought she would be able to stroll out of the building without attracting any undue attention. As far as she could see, it was her only choice. Tucking the bag between her feet, Ellie placed the folders carefully, being sure not to rip the cheap bag. Both the folders and the crackers left no room for the three remaining cans of chili, so Ellie tucked them into her large file drawer. She hoped Bing wouldn’t steal them. They could well turn out to be the last meal of a condemned woman.

When she stood up and pulled the bag to her side, she realized what a terrible hiding place she had chosen. The files were longer and taller than the oyster cracker box, and the bag strained at the seams. Still, Cooper had noticed her rise, and she couldn’t think of any other options. All she had to do was get past the guard and she was confident she could rush her way out the door. It was time once again to go on the offensive.

She grabbed her cigarettes as she cleared the corner of the desk and, shifting the bag to her right hand, the oyster crackers against her leg, she lit a cigarette and puffed hard as she walked. Cooper smelled her before he turned to her and didn’t pretend to disguise his disgust.

“I thought you weren’t going to smoke in here. I thought you made a peace offering.”

“Relax, Cooper.” Ellie blew out another thick cloud as she passed, keeping herself in the middle of his line of sight of the bag. “I’m taking it outside. If I get any calls, take a message.” The guard coughed and fanned the offensive smoke away, not bothering to watch her go. Ellie swung the
bag on her wrist, turning the folders against her, the cracker box on the outside, and hurried to the stairs.

“Where the hell are you going?” Big Martha leaned on heavy forearms across her desk.

“Med check.” Ellie froze, thinking quickly of the best way to turn around without exposing the bag.

“Bullshit. You had one yesterday.”

Ellie let anger be her disguise. “Well, I’ve got another one today. What do you want me to do? Bring you a note?” She could hardly hear her own words over the pounding of blood in her ears as she watched Big Martha’s gaze drift to the bag she half hid behind her leg. Her boss quickly lifted her gaze, her mouth set in a hard line, and it felt like hours before she spoke.

“I’ve never known you to eat oyster crackers before.”

Ellie could only blink several times, trying to wrap her mind around what her boss saw. Nobody chose to eat oyster crackers. They were a last resort when nothing else would stay down, and Ellie felt a twinge of guilt at misleading her boss. People got sick in Flowertown. It was a fact of life, just like the fact that many of them didn’t get better. In this new bizarre world of chemical containment, etiquette demanded that one never, ever ask the question, “Are you okay?” when issues of wellness arose. If Ellie had two med checks in one week and she carried around a box of oyster crackers, that was her business. If she wanted to share it, Big Martha would have listened, but until then, the topic was off-limits.

“Don’t make a day of it.” Big Martha turned back toward her computer. “Those files are piling up.”

Ellie nodded, trying not to gasp out her relief. She was sick, she told herself, so technically she hadn’t misled her
boss. That would have to do as far as comfort went, and Ellie took the stairs two at a time.