The Caretaker - 7. Chapter 7

“Hudson? Are you okay?”

Chris’s voice sounded so far away. I opened my eyes to find his blurry face over mine. He helped me to a sitting position, and every joint in my body protested being moved.

“Ow…”

I blinked a few times until the room came into focus. The caretaker’s dried husk of a body lay next to me, his hands stuck outward as if he was still trying to grab me.

“Oh god, that's gross.” I grabbed Chris’s jacket and pulled myself closer. He helped me to my feet, and I looked around the room as I stood.

A pile of black dirt caked with deep veins of red ooze lay on the floor behind Chris. Another one on the workbench spilled over onto the floor.

The remains of the caretaker’s evil root lay at my feet. A deep, dark purple haze of light surrounded it. The aura surged and retreated, slowly and steadily, like a glowing heartbeat. It was mesmerizing. I couldn't take my eyes off it. It didn't deserve to be on the ground like that. So disrespectful. I should pick it up. If I took the pieces and placed them in a pot, I could get the roots to grow back together, and then—

Suddenly, the door crashed open, and Grant tumbled into the room. He rolled into a crouch, brandishing a dagger.

“You're a little late,” Chris said.

I laughed.

“What the hell happened?” Grant asked, tucking his dagger into his belt. “Jesus, you killed the caretaker?”

“I didn't. Hudson did.”

Chris and Grant both looked at me.

“I didn't kill him,” I insisted. “I broke his… root… thing… of evil…”

I looked back down at the root, still throbbing purple light. “Do you see it?” I whispered. “It's alive.”

“What are you talking about?” Grant asked. He pulled his dagger and bent down, ready to poke at it.

I grabbed his hand. “Don't touch it! You'll get the purple aura on you.”

“Purple aura?” Grant frowned. “Did you hit your head?”

“No. That thing is evil.”

Resisting the urge to pick it up, I stepped on the biggest piece, using my boot to smush it into the concrete as hard as I could. I could hear its screams echoing in my heads as I destroyed the pieces. I ignored it, instead grinding and twisting my feet until the noise faded.

Chris put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him.

“What do you mean? Are you seeing colors?”

“Yes.” I looked down at the remnants of the root. “Well, not anymore. Didn't you see it? You didn't see the caretaker’s aura?”

“No, Hudson.” Chris shot Grant a look. “Do you see any colors now?”

Looking around the room, I saw nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, certainly no auras or hazy glows.

“I don't see anything,” I answered.

Chris nodded and let out a breath, then stepped back. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

“Mom and Dad are on their way,” Grant said.

I followed Grant and Chris through the wooden door. Stairs led up, where the sun streamed in from an outer doorway. Stopping, I turned back and shut the door behind me. As I reached out for the doorknob, I spotted a faint green glow surrounding my hand.

As I ascended the stairs, I stared at my hands. The more I looked, the easier it became to see the haze of green light.

“Guys? I’m glowing. I think…”

I stopped talking when I stepped into the sun. We had emerged from a small mausoleum in the center of the caretaker's cemetery. The surrounding garden was dead, black and decayed.

“Oh…” My voice choked. Remembering the way it used to look, comparing it to now, made me want to cry. I used to have picnics with Grant’s family just a few yards away. “I guess we won’t be having any picnics.”

“I know,” Grant said quietly. “I don't know what we’re going to do now.”

I stepped through the tangled brambles to the bench in the middle of the garden. A thin, wilted tree slumped against the side of the bench, its dead branches splayed across the seat. I picked it up and moved it aside, then sat down with a sigh.

No one said anything for a few moments. I looked up at Chris, who smiled down at me. Well, that was a good sign.

“You’re tough, for a little guy.”

The hell? “Little?”

Chris laughed. “It’s so easy to get a rise out of you. Too easy.” Chris wiggled his eyebrows. He reached out and tapped the end of my nose.

Grant rolled his eyes. “Gross.”

I ignored Grant. “So, does this mean—”

Grant let out a loud gasp and stepped back. He yanked on Chris’s arm, pulling him back.

“What?”

I followed Grant and Chris’s wide-eyed gazes, to the dead plant next to the bench.

A single green bud had sprouted from one of the branches.

With the caretaker dead, would the garden come back to life on its own? Gingerly, I lifted the branch. I felt it twitch against my palm as it began to thicken and grow. Another bud popped out of the branch, followed by another. The buds opened and leaves emerged.

I could only laugh to myself as I watched the branch come to life, green light travelling from my hand, down the limb, and into the roots. Within moments, I was staring at a fully living rhododendron bush, bursting with clusters of pink flowers.

I turned back to Grant and Chris to find them both on one knee, heads bowed, hands palm up.

“Uh, what are you guys doing?”

Chris wouldn’t look at me. In fact, he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Or maybe he’d just been kicked in the nuts when I wasn’t looking.

Grant’s eyes flicked up for a split second. “You’re the new caretaker.”

Damn.