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Chapter Two

Eden

I stand very still against the side of the building for long minutes, processing what I just witnessed and heard. My brain is running in ten directions. I don’t have the foggiest clue what a cock is. Never heard the word. I’m digging into the recesses of my mind to come up with something, but I’m drawing a blank.

Also, what did she mean when she said the men inside weren’t humans? That made no sense at all.

I’m so relieved the driver either didn’t see me or didn’t grasp that I looked out of place.

I definitely look out of place. The longer I stand here, the more I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb. I know I do because people keep staring at me as they walk by. A few have even commented.

“What century did you come from, girl?”

“It’s not Halloween, freak.”

“Is there a remake of The Little House on the Prairie happening nearby?”

I people watch for a while, noticing how many women come and go from the club I’m in front of. They all come out giggling and saying things similar to the woman who just got into the van with the driver.

“So the rumors are true.”

“Fuck, those men are huge.”

“Do you suppose his cock was as proportionately large as the rest of him?”

The word cock catches me again. My curiosity is piqued, and I wish I wasn’t so unworldly.

I don’t know what time it is, but it’s got to be after midnight, and I’m baffled by the fact that the streets are still filled with people. Hundreds. In the compound, we all go to bed soon after dark. Using electricity after the sun goes down is considered wasteful. We do so sparingly. There’s a small light in the women’s bathroom that gives just enough illumination to see well enough to get the job done. That’s it.

It’s loud out here, too. After a while, I want to put my hands over my ears to block out some of the noise. Cars go by constantly, their engines blaring. There’s honking in the distance and sirens. Most of the vehicles that go by have music playing like the van I was in, and I can hear it from the sidewalk. Many of them have a window down, making it even louder.

Laughter stands out above every noise. People don’t often laugh inside the compound. It’s not specifically forbidden, but feeling pleasure is frowned upon. Frivolous happiness is sinful.

There’s that word again. I’m questioning everything I’ve ever been told was sinful.

After a while, I back into the alley behind the strange club. I’m exhausted. It’s late. I’ve never been up this late. I’m also facing a reality I’m not prepared for. My entire focus has been on getting away from the compound. I’ve thought of little else in months. Escape. Escape. Escape.

I’m so relieved, but at the same time, I realize I have no plan. I have no money and no food. I have no place to go, nowhere to sleep. I had no idea what to expect when I stepped into the real world, so I had no way to prepare.

I nearly jump out of my skin when a door opens in the dark alley. I gasp and flatten my hand over my heart as a man steps outside. He spots me and frowns. “Are you okay, miss?”

I nod. I don’t know this man. I don’t trust anyone. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

He hesitates and then walks farther into the alley. He’s carrying a large bag, and I watch as he flips the lid up on a giant metal box and throws the bag over the top. When he returns, he pauses again, looking at me. “Did someone scare you, ma’am?”

“No, sir.” I swallow. He’s scaring me, but other than that, no one else has.

He glances around. “Are you alone?”

I nod slowly. Maybe it’s a mistake to tell him, but I can’t lie. I don’t have it in me.

He sets his hand on the door. “It’s getting cold out here.”

I nod again.

He looks toward the door and back at me. “My boss would kill me if I let you inside, but you look like you could use warming up.”

I stare at the door he came through. Loud music had filtered out when he’d opened it. It must be part of Club Zoom since that’s the building I’ve rounded. What is this place? I look back at him and swallow.

He sighs. “Come on.” He nods toward the door as he opens it.

I don’t know if I should trust him, but I don’t have a living soul in the world I can trust, so I have no choice. I wring my hands together as I follow him inside.

He holds a finger to his lips. “You’ll have to be quiet. I’ll get canned if anyone finds out I let you in.” He nods toward a chair. “We’re behind the stage. The place is open for another half hour, still. If you wait back here, I’ll bring you something to drink.”

I shuffle toward the chair. “Thank you.”

He stares at me another moment, brows furrowed, and then hurries off.

I sit, looking around. It’s dark back here, but it’s warm. Music is playing loudly on the other side of the wall. I feel the beat through the floor. It’s weird.

After a few minutes, the man returns. He’s holding two bottles, and he offers them both to me. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like water or soda. Or both.” He smiles. “Were you at a costume party?”

I shake my head. Maybe I should lie to avoid more questions, but I just can’t.

He frowns. “Please tell me you left a boyfriend or something.” He chuckles.

“Yes, sir,” I mutter. How does he guess that?

His brows lift high, and he smiles broadly. “You don’t have to call me sir. My name is Matthew. I work here. Obviously.”

I open my mouth, but it doesn’t seem prudent to tell him my name. What if he turns me in? So, I say nothing. The two bottles he gave me are freezing. My fingers are so cold that I set them on the floor. Why are the drinks so cold? I think I’ve seen drinks like this in individual containers on television, but I’ve never seen them in real life.

“Well, I get off in half an hour. If you want to hang out here until then, maybe we could go have a coffee or something?”

I hold his gaze. Coffee? I’ve never had coffee. Do women in the real world drink coffee? In the compound, only men do. I’ve prepared it for them hundreds of times. I’ve never tasted it. It doesn’t even smell good.

“Or something stronger if you’d like,” he adds.

“Thank you,” I say, uncertain how else to respond.

He seems pleased by my answer, though, and he beams before nodding toward the door he’d come through. “I must get back. You’ll wait?”

“Yes.”

After he’s gone, I pick up the two drinks again. One of them is water, I think. The other is a dark drink in a clear bottle. It has bubbles. The label is red, but I don’t know what it is. Taking a chance, I screw off the top and smell it. It’s sweet. It’s probably forbidden, but that thought empowers me to take a sip.

I cringe. It tingles in my mouth. And it’s more than sweet. It’s like syrup. I don’t think I like it. I put the top back on and set it on the floor before opening the other bottle. One tentative sip tells me it’s definitely water. It’s refreshing, but why is it so cold? I take a long drink and end up with a head rush.

Time ticks by. The man hasn’t come back yet. I eventually stand and wander around behind the space he called the stage. Sometimes I hear announcements. Finally someone says, “This is our last song of the night, ladies.”

I flinch when a resounding course of women groaning meets my ears. They don’t like that it’s the last song. What does that mean for them? Will they go home now?

The farther I wander behind the stage, the darker it gets. In the dim light, I notice a small sofa. It looks comfortable, and I make my way over and sit. I’m so tired. Surely it won’t hurt to lean against the arm of the loveseat.

I curl up, tuck my hands under my cheek, and continue to listen to the noises as the volume lowers. The song ends. Men speak, both through the microphone and just loud shouting.

“Time to go, ladies.”

“You can try again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you were hoping.”

The men are chuckling. I have no idea what they’re talking about. As usual since I left the compound, everything around me is confusing. I fear I’m going to be startled often in this new world. I also have no idea what I’m going to do next. How will I survive out here? I’m obviously wholly unprepared. The real world is far stranger than I expected.

I’ve been lied to all my life. It’s maddening.

My eyes are very heavy as the noise dies down.

I hear the man from earlier call out, “Hello? Are you still here?”

For some reason, I don’t answer. I’m too tired to go get coffee or a drink. Maybe if I just don’t respond… Is that a sin? Probably. I’ve certainly always been expected to respond to my elders. But is this man my elder? I think he’s close to my age.

“Well fuck,” I hear him mutter. A door opens and closes. I assume it’s the door I entered through. I guess the man has left without me, thinking I didn’t wait for him.

I lie very still, not hearing anything else. I close my eyes and let sleep drag me under.