Chapter 22 - The neighbour's house

  It was nice to wake up to a quiet house for a change, but my mood shifted too quickly to enjoy it. I hadn't closed the blinds, and moonlight flooded the entire room. The image of Mrs. Hill's charred bedroom flashed bright in my mind, and I scrambled out of bed, desperate to escape. I needed to do something to occupy my mind and stop the uncomfortable thoughts.

  After taking care of personal hygiene and food, the next item on my agenda was properly testing my cards. I was rested, my mind was fresh, and there were no open wounds on me. It was finally time to figure out if I could control the power of my [Torch].

  I stepped outside and looked around like the robber Mrs. HOA had referred to earlier. The windows of my neighbours' townhouses were dark, blinds drawn. My narrow backyard ended at an exterior wall, covered in familiar vines. I didn't want to risk approaching the carnivorous plant at night, so I dragged the old charcoal grill to the middle of the lawn and flipped the lid open. If this didn't work, I wouldn't be too upset about losing it.

  As an aim, I've put one of the penguin slippers from the hospital in the middle of the grill. I extended my right hand towards the grill and recalled the sensation of physical strain coursing through my body last time. If I'd mastered anything throughout my fitness influencer career, it was focusing on muscle activation.

  As soon as I triggered the skill, the imaginary tension turned to real strain. Last time, it had lasted thirty seconds. I started counting, then ordered my brain to relax the tensed muscles. The sensation felt almost dangerous, like letting your arms go slack mid-bench press. But I think I succeeded, because when I managed to let go of all the rigidity at the twenty-second mark, the skill sputtered out. Better yet, I didn't feel dizzy or wobbly afterward. Just tired, the same pleasant exhaustion that follows a good workout.

  I checked my deck. The card had a countdown going: 9 minutes and 39 seconds. Was it because the countdown started as soon as I activated it?

  "That's a neat trick," a female voice split my focus.

  I whipped around, catching the flash of a lighter on the porch of the neighbour's house. Their porch was slightly elevated, and she could clearly see me through the wooden lattice. She breathed out a cloud of smoke, and I was instantly able to tell she wasn't smoking tobacco.

  "Yeah, picked it up on my way back home," I said.

  "My brother mentioned something about cards you get from killing monsters. Was that it? The card?"

  "Yep, cards." I started walking toward the house. I needed to eat something before my next attempt. Exercise always went easier on a stomach full of sugar. I wanted to test if the same held true for magic.

  "Mrs. Meyer, the dictator, told everyone at the meeting that you are hoarding food." The woman said.

  "I do not," I answered, instantly recalling the HOA Chair's name.

  "Hey, I don't really care about that. I just know she's trying to get everyone in line. Get everyone to contribute for the "common good," she showed quotation marks. "And an angry mob is agreeing with her."

  "But I did give her my food!"

  "That's not what she said. As per her, you threatened her with a knife and told her to get lost."

  "That bitch."

  "Yep. Probably stashed your food, too."

  I hesitated for a few moments, debating between getting more practice in with the cards or getting more information about what's going on in our neighbourhood.

  "Hey, so I've got some snacks, just tortillas, nothing fancy. We could probably all use the extra calories now." I finally offered. It seemed smart to learn what I could about this place, even if I'd be gone in a few days.

  "Come over. If you excuse the mess."

  I went into my house to grab chips, two sad-looking avocados, and a few bottles of Electrolyte drink. Despite consuming a lot of food earlier, I was already starving again.

  I walked around the fence to enter from the front. Her living room was, in fact, a hot mess. The candlelight revealed children's toys, empty snack wrappers, and a few dirty socks strewn around.

  "Had to allow kids some rowdy play time to distract them from, you know, how miserable it is out there," she said, looking over a mess herself.

  We walked towards the kitchen. The woman was picking up garbage as she went - a force of order in this explosion of chaos.

  There were a lot of pictures on the walls. Mostly family photos: happy family on a camping trip, on a playground, on a fair by the roller coaster. They had a daughter and a son. The daughter reminded me of someone, but we passed by the photos too fast for the memory to surface.

  I've set out my offerings on the clear counter corner. She went to the pantry and walked out with a jar of salsa.

  "We ran out of chips last night, thought I'd never get to use this." She pulled some paper plates and plastic cutlery to cut the avocados. "Let's go on the porch; the lighting there is better."

  We set everything on the patio table, opened our drinks, and dug into the food. For a few minutes, we both ate in silence. She was clearly hungry. I wondered if she'd been saving food for the kids, or if it was just the side effect of smoking.

  Once I'd eaten my fill, I opened my drink and leaned back in my chair, gazing up at the starry sky. I could clearly see the Big Dipper, but wondered if the rest of the constellations remained the same. I'd had no interest in astronomy, and didn't know enough to notice a difference. But if the rest of our planet was changing so much, why would the sky stay the same?

  "Wow, this is really bad…" The woman said, after taking a sip of the drink.

  "Yeah, got it in a PR Pack. I'm pretty sure the company will go out of business."

  She chuckled.

  "I'm pretty sure all the companies already gone out of business. By the way, you want some?" She offered me a joint, sitting by the ashtray.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "Nope, I'm good. So your brother. What else did he tell you? And how does he even know this stuff? I thought nobody left because of, you know..." I nodded toward the wall of flesh-eating plants.

  "Yeah, people are too freaked out to even approach them. We've watched animals get tangled up and pulled into those things, and nobody wants to be next, you know? The HOA had a meeting and decided we should just wait for the National Guard. So here we are, still waiting." She took a drag of her smoke and coughed a little before continuing. "My brother called Thursday night, feels like forever ago now. He's in the Navy, stationed in San Diego. But he told me they're getting deployed and he didn't... he doesn't know if he'll ever get to talk to me again." She paused. "He told me to stock up on food. Watch out for the monsters. And he said it's like a video game. If you kill them, you get cards with superpowers. He told me to stay inside. That's... yeah, that's about all he could say."

  "Well, at least you've gotten a warning."

  "Yeah, at least," she said, leaning back in her chair. "What's the outside like?"

  I've told her the highlights of what I've been through, not mentioning Andy's mom.

  "Sounds like Hell. That's what Martha said. That this is the Judgment Day. And that's why we have to share, to get a few last points' worth of deeds."

  "Martha, the HOA dictator?"

  "Yeah, her."

  "Sounds more like she's trying to become a cult leader…"

  "Are you surprised, though? This is California. One out of every three cults is based here."

  "Documentaries fan?" I asked, getting another bottle of the electrolyte drink.

  "Yeah, I was…"

  We sat quietly for a while.

  "Is it really that dangerous out there?" She finally asked, breaking up the silence. "Have you seen people die?"

  "Yep, and yep."

  "Shit."

  "Your husband went out?" I realized.

  "Yeah. Young children eat a lot. And then we saw you destroy those wines over the gate. He saw his chance."

  "He probably will be fine." My encouragement sounded fake, even to me.

  "You know. I told him to do something about it…" She took in a shattering breath, then put out her joint.

  I didn't know what to say. There was obviously no right answer here. Kids do need to eat. And it is dangerous out there.

  "I probably should go… I need to test my cards more. I have no idea how they actually work."

  She collected herself and pointed towards the fire pit in their backyard.

  "Feel free to use our pit. It's the corner lot, less chances of people seeing you."

  "And calling me a witch?" I chuckled.

  She nodded, clearly still thinking about her husband. "By the way, my name is Amanda," she said, getting up and extending a hand for a shake.

  It must be weird that I'm only introducing myself to my neighbours just now, and emphasized how antisocial I've truthfully been all these years. What can I say? Interacting with a fan base took a lot out of me.

  "Chloe," I shook her hand back.

  "Yeah, we all know. You are kind of a celebrity."

  "Was a celebrity," I smiled sadly. "No more social media now."

  Amanda just nodded and headed back into the house, taking empty bags and bottles with her.

  I used my card two more times, each attempt easier than the last. I was now able to stop the skill after only ten seconds.

  The moon had long since set by the time I headed home, exhausted and ready to collapse into bed.

  But exhaustion didn't mean sleep came easily. I tossed and turned for hours before finally downing a double dose of melatonin and Benadryl. Even then, instead of a peaceful rest, I was stuck in a nightmare-filled hellscape: Iris chopping off my hand. Over and over again. The melatonin trapped me in, every sensation, every mad change of scenario felt real.

  I woke up drenched in sweat.

  After forcing down a breakfast of supplements and another tuna sandwich, I decided it was time to get back to my routine. I needed to burn off the anxious energy itching under my skin. Getting enough calories was important, sure, but without proper exercise, they wouldn't help me rebuild the muscle I'd lost. Besides, if I kept sitting around, my brain would just keep taking me to places I didn't want to revisit.

  I dragged some weights and a mat out in my backyard and started with my usual dynamic stretches. Morning air was heavy with moisture and smelled like ashes. The sky was the colour of blood orange, and it looked like the entire horizon was on fire.

  I switched to callisthenics to see how much strength I'd lost before picking up weights and potentially injuring myself. It was truly amazing how my right arm felt so whole. No twitching, no numbness of nerve pain. Just my healthy limb.

  Loud children's voices spilled from Amanda's house, but I couldn't distinguish the words. I really hoped her husband would come back. It was hard to survive out there on your own, but it would be impossible with two kids on your hands. I should bring some food over to her house. Two kids eat a lot.

  I quickly worked up a sweat. Halfway through the set, I got lightheaded and had to stop and walk around to recover.

  But long walks in the backyard were out of the question. The vines on the wall were starting to move every time I would come within ten feet. The Sun rose higher in the sky, and the bright pink flowers on the vines shone with fresh dew drops.

  I've pushed myself for another set and felt lightheaded again. My thighs were itching with tension, and I was starting to get annoyed. My legs shook after barely five squats. Disgusting how quickly everything had deteriorated. I did some slap-downs on my quads to shake off the burn.

  I hauled my equipment back inside and took a quick bird bath from a bucket. After changing into fresh clothes, I gathered my supplies: thick high socks, sturdy boots, swimming goggles and the thickest face mask I had since the pandemic. It was time for some gardening.

  Standing ten feet away from the vibrant wall of "ivy," I assessed my options. The growth had spread aggressively, its tendrils creeping all over the outside wall and the smaller fence towards the house. I didn't need to clear a path over the wall right now; I just wanted this monster dead.

  Two main root systems had established themselves in my backyard, their bases thick and gnarled where they met the ground. In between, I could see fresh runners snaking across the soil, clearly intent on making their final push toward the house itself.

  Any starting point would work, really. I chose the smaller plant on the left, figuring it made sense to tackle the easier target first. My torch produced a flame about three feet long, enough to do some damage without getting swallowed by the plant.

  I took a deep breath and moved forward. The vines reacted instantly, whirling toward my feet. One, two, three of them coiled around my ankles and calves, trying to pull me off balance.

  This time, they couldn't do any damage. The layers I'd wrapped around my legs held firm. I was more stable on my feet, too. Knowing what to expect made it almost easy to keep my focus.

  Crouching with an extended arm, I activate [Torch]. The familiar whine of boiling juices was like music to my ears. In that moment, the plant represented everything that had happened over the past week. It was responsible for all of it, and it had to die.

  I tensed, concentrating on something I hadn't dared attempt yesterday, and pushed the flames hotter, stronger. It worked, and it was so easy. The energy and emotional relief warmed me from the inside, like a good cup of cocoa.

  When the card sputtered out, the fire stuck to the woody stocks, and kept going for another thirty seconds. Charred root remnants jutted from the scorched soil, and the severed vines above hung limp and lifeless. But there was no Deal Hand notification, and I realized my mistake. A flamethrower couldn't kill roots buried this deep underground. I'd burned the surface, nothing more.

  I turned to walk back to the house and swayed slightly. Pouring that much energy into the card had weakened me again, but it was completely worth it. Now I just needed to finish what I'd started.

  There were some leftover herbicides in my garage from when the Mrs. HOA Board Chair had pestered me about the lawn. I rummaged through the bins I'd organized to keep the garage tidy for potential videos. Somehow, the herbicides had ended up in the Christmas decoration box.

  Three bottles, all different formulas. I'd bought them all because I didn't have the patience to read through the instructions. Now that impulse buy worked in my favour, I had three different chemicals to make sure that the plant was dead.

  I poured half of each bottle around the dead roots. With the vines now lifeless and the other plant not yet claiming its section of wall, I could approach without risk of being entangled and eaten.

  I still held my breath and wore a mask. Partly in case the flowers retained their potency, partly in case the chemicals reacted with each other. I didn't have the energy to singe the other plant right now.

  The Deal Hand notification didn't come immediately, and I was too tired to just stand there and wait. So I put my supplies away and washed my hands. I wondered how much longer the boiler water would last me.

  Knock on the door had interrupted my musings.