Poisoned Trees and Yellow Grass

By Karen Clark

Poisoned Trees and Yellow Grass, a dystopian, futuristic novel, centers around the lives of four charactersan ovarian cancer sufferer, a victim of gang rape, a man who has been serving a life sentence for murder, and a traumatized adolescent who has been domestically abusedall of whose lives have been changed by the outbreak of nuclear war. Two are now free from their plights, one successfully plots revenge, and one is now no more in danger of dying than anyone else.

Looting from the local provisions warehouse is a serious offence punishable by being forced to take part in the Eliminations at the East London Arena, where each offender is electrocuted after losing nine lives in the contestan event in which survival is rare.

But food and electricity are fast running out, and if mankind is to survive in the generations to come, post-war society has to change.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Mar 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524678739

Karen Clark

Karen Clark is a true Renaissance woman with a vast career as an Italian-trained fashion designer, litigation paralegal, carpenter and wood floor mechanic to concert promoter, pet and housesitter, personal historian, landscape designer and IT/Word Processor at the ad agency that brought you the Pet Rock, just to name a few of her adventures. Like most midlife women who have gone through the “Change,” she now spends her time on artistic activities such as writing and spending time with her grandchildren—and yelling at politicians on television. Singing in Silence is her debut novel. Her next book is NestQuest, her memoir of the twelve years it took to write this historical novel while suffering a brain injury from workplace bullying which led to homelessness at age sixty and her continuing quest to find a home. Her journey led to wanting to know more about the history of her brave ancestor’s quest for a home in America, culminating in driving herself through England, Ireland and Scotland in 2015. That journey revealed Mayflower ancestors, including the pilot of that famous voyage and her ten-times great grandmother who was one of the original Separatists and the aunt of Plymouth Governor William Bradford. She has learned to Trust the Journey.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Sapphire stopped running as she tried to catch her breath. With a tired, aching hand, she nursed her right ovarian cyst, crouching beneath the nearest park bench to avoid being seized by a patroller who happened to be passing.

It was summer, but the black, poisoned trees - their branches void of leaves - made it difficult to recall the time of year. Stiff, yellow grass lay before her as she peered beyond the toxic horizon.

Satisfied the coast was clear, she rose to her feet, dragging the tins across the exit of the park as she made her way back to her abode. She could not stop trembling; still in shock at having lost Topaz - her sister - only several days ago. Topaz had been warming up lunch and was about to switch off the portable stove, when she collapsed and instantly died, radiation poisoning presumably having been the cause.

Yet there were other ways to die in this post-nuclear age, one of them being caught stealing food. Criminals were now a source of entertainment, the aftermath of war having brought out the worst in mankind.

Attending the Arena to watch offenders eliminated as sport was a luxury in this bleak, twisted age. Few criminals – if sharp and alert – ever managed to survive their ordeal before a random, cheering crowd of spectators; Sapphire doubted she would be among them if she was caught for looting cans of processed food. Indeed, those she had previously known who had been caught in the act never survived to tell the tale; each having been destroyed in one electrical burst.

She took a succession of breaths; her ovary continuing to throb – an ovary that would have been removed had war not intervened; and now, three years on, the tumour around it must have enlarged within that space of time. She glanced at the familiar block of flats situated centimetres before her; its windows intact, but radioactive as a result of some distant nuclear blast; the top two floors uninhabited, but still in one piece.

Pushing open the door of the entrance, she climbed the staircase that led to the basement hide-out, the stolen tins clattering in the depths of her bag.

Oh, you’re back, then? squealed a voice from the foot of the stairs – a skinny, down-trodden silhouette that met her vision as she reached the basement entrance.

Yes, Onyx, I’m back, she replied. But I’m not sure if anyone saw me. But anyway, since our ration has been pilfered, we’ve still got to eat. I’m only sorry it just had to be soup and nothing more substantial.

It was so good of you to think of us all, mumbled Onyx, as they made their way into the basement’s dilapidated core.

Where are the others? asked Sapphire, as she and Onyx sat down on two ragged, pre-nuclear war chairs.

They’re at the Eliminations, replied the other almost whispering, ashamed that Sapphire had risked life and limb on her own.

Mmmm, uttered Sapphire, suppressing her annoyance as she took off her jacket. And when, again, is our next ration due?

Err – not until another three weeks, I think, Onyx nervously replied, sensing her group leader’s anger at the thoughtlessness of her group.

"Is it really that long that we’ve all got to wait?" remarked Sapphire in dismay. Onyx nodded in silence, throwing the inconvenienced woman a cautious glance.

Well, let’s hope these tins last us until then, remarked Sapphire, unzipping her bag before opening the doors of the larder. And with any luck, she added, continuing to hold in her anger at having been lumbered with the task of procuring a fresh supply of provisions alone, our ration won’t be stolen this time round. By the way, she went on as she began stacking the larder shelves with the stolen tins. Do you have any idea when the others will be back? Did they say if they’d return before dark when they left?

Oh, I forgot to ask them, murmured Onyx in shame, afraid Sapphire’s patience would finally break. They were all in such a hurry. They were late departing, and feared they’d miss part of the tournament.

Sapphire slid the larder doors shut. Did you not fancy going along with them? she asked, turning to face Onyx in the fading light of day.

No, replied the other, shutting her eyes in distaste, I find the Eliminations too upsetting to watch. I can never understand why they happen to be so popular.

No, agreed Sapphire, sitting down on a chair that had survived the dreadful war. I can fully understand how you feel. Not only are the Eliminations barbaric, but any one of us could become their next victim; you, me; the next person from another post-war group–.

Onyx threw her a tentative glance as if reading her thoughts; that she had returned with stolen provisions, and was in danger of becoming the candidate of a future tournament.

Is there any bread? asked Sapphire, not wishing to push the subject any further.

There are a few pieces left, replied Onyx".

Well, if the others are not back in time for supper, I suppose we’ll just have to have it without them, pronounced Sapphire in resignation, rising from her chair towards the portable stove.

*     *     *

It was dark before the others returned. The first to emerge was Sardonyx, who, despite a few facial chars from the heat of a not-too-distant blast, one could see that she was exceptionally attractive. The next to appear was Garnet, who had been serving a life sentence for murder – a sentence to which the war had put an end. Trailing closely behind him was Opal, a child of about eight years old, orphaned by a nuclear strike that obliterated her parents. She was a puny, under-sized girl, though one could hardly call her sensitive by nature. She would watch the Eliminations in fascination like one beyond her years, though that was probably due to the influence of Sardonyx, who would encourage this callous avidity.

Did you manage to get hold of more provisions for us, Sapphire? smirked Sardonyx in brazen curiosity, slinking up to the larder which she opened to see what she could find.

The hairs on Sapphire’s neck began to bristle; it was clear that she was being provoked. But she could read Sardonyx like a book, and had learnt not to rise to the bait of her wanton cruelty. She had sensed it was Sardonyx who had incited the others to attend the Eliminations without her; not a day went by when she was not goaded by Sardonyx in some way.

Oh, tomato soup; my favourite! exclaimed Sardonyx, eagerly clasping one of the freshly stolen tins.

Did anyone survive the tournament? asked Onyx.

They did not, replied Garnet, removing his jacket which he placed on the back of the nearest chair. But alas, that’s usually the case, is it not? Very few contenders ever live to tell the tale.

With a facade of calm, Sapphire looked Sardonyx straight in the eye and marched slowly towards her.

Leave that tin of tomato soup alone; it must not be used until tomorrow; there’s not enough food to go round as it is, she told her firmly, removing the tin from her grasp and sliding the larder doors shut.

Oh, I quite forgot; our ration was stolen, wasn’t it? remarked Sardonyx in complacent derision. Oh well, Sapphire; you know what they say – you win some; you lose some.

Well, I hope I’m not arrested for having replaced our stolen ration on your behalf, Sapphire told her in reproof. It’s no light-hearted matter, Sardonyx.

Sardonyx threw her a glance of disdain as she casually slipped off her boots.

Cheer up, Sapphire, she said drily, For all we know, it may never even happen.

CHAPTER TWO

Do you reckon she got killed in a nuclear blast? asked Ruby, spurting the water from her hose onto the dilapidated library walls.

Oh, Sardonyx, you mean? grunted Emerald, spraying the wainscoting with glum indifference. It’s more than likely. Anyway, she added harshly, "it’s been quite some time since the beginning of the war – which practically ended as soon as it began. So even if she hasn’t been blown to bits, she could well have dropped dead from radiation poisoning – with any luck."

That could have applied to any one of us, though, said Ruby cynically. It still could.

"Which is why we’re cleansing the library now?" snapped Emerald, aiming the mouth of her hose at the walls.

Ruby made no immediate reply, dropping her eyes to the toxic floor as she switched off her hose; Emerald doing the same seconds later.

The boys gave Sardonyx a right going over, didn’t they? added Ruby as an afterthought.

It’s not as if she didn’t deserve it, retorted Emerald in annoyance.

I mean, the way she winced and wailed while they raped her; I couldn’t bear to watch it in the end, persisted Ruby with a horrified gasp.

She had it coming to her, Ruby, insisted Emerald, screwing up her face in anger. Look at the way she tried to rob me of my boyfriend; the way she cruelly taunted and laughed at others. She was nothing but a cunning, evil bitch.

Yes, remarked Ruby, but it was a bit extreme of us all to…

"It’s not as if Sardonyx ever liked you," said the other, truculently.

Oh, I could sense she was never that keen, admitted Ruby with a sigh, her hose resting idly in her hand as her apathy for her duties increased. "But she never actually attacked me personally in any way."

Emerald lay down her hose, staring Ruby in the eye with a look of penetrating coldness. She probably didn’t have the chance to get round to it, dear, she cackled cynically. The fact of the matter is she was a malevolent cow who wished ill on the people around her.

Well, she certainly paid for it, said Ruby. Who’d ever want to be gang-raped?

There’s been a nuclear war; probably much of this world’s been destroyed, said Emerald fiercely. "Haven’t we all ‘paid for it’ – good-natured people included?"

Ruby surrendered her stare, turning to face the window of the contaminated library. Although the anger and frustration at Emerald’s callousness continued to bite, she knew how blinkered and stubborn her companion could be. Emerald’s words made her wonder if - on a personal level - rape was more destructive than the effects of nuclear war. Then all of a sudden, she noticed the sky had turned dark; black rain was beginning to fall, reminding her of the omnipresent fall-out slyly hovering in the air; warily, she secured her gas mask on her face.

No, she finally thought. Forget rape: what could be worse than nuclear war?

She turned round, to see another familiar face; one tightly covered by a gas mask of its own.

What the hell do you both think you’re doing? it chided loudly. You’re supposed to be cleansing this building - not engaging in idle chit chat. For that, you can both go without lunch for having let down our team.

Didn’t you see that shower of acid rain just now? disputed Emerald, undeterred. This area looks as if it still has a high level of radiation. Any Geiger counter would tell you that this library will have to be demolished come what may, and that trying to cleanse it is a total waste of time!

Ruby gulped with unease; once again she was caught in the middle of a disagreement between Emerald and the supervisor of the post-war decontamination brigade. Her eyes flitted nervously from the floor to the creases of the supervisor’s suit, as she realised that Emerald had impetuously overstepped the mark.

Defying the radiation as her anger increased, the woman in charge pulled the mask from her face, which reddened with rage as she tightened her lips.

Right! she finally barked. That’s it! This has been the very last straw!

Ruby looked at Emerald in despair as they edged towards the window, distancing themselves from the supervisor hovering furiously before their eyes.

You! continued the woman, pointing a finger at Emerald, before flinging her gas mask on the table nearby, have done nothing but wind me up since the pair of you first set foot in my brigade. My group has fed you; clothed you; sheltered you; given you water to drink… and all you’ve done in return is antagonize me and throw it back in my face!

Ruby tried to call a truce by re-activating her hose in an attempt to continue cleansing the building; the supervisor, however, stopped her in her tracks.

Turn that hose off again, please, she ordered sternly. In fact, you can lay down your hoses on the table right now – the pair of you!

The girls relinquished their hoses in silence, eyeing the woman in dread as they knew what would follow.

Do the same with your gas masks, said the supervisor harshly, retrieving that of her own and placing it back on her face. Thank you both for volunteering – but now your services are no longer required. You will leave this decontamination brigade immediately…. and I would be grateful if - on your way out of the building - you would remove your nuclear suits and place them on the coat stand by the entrance…

Ruby swallowed hard. But, supervisor! she pleaded feebly, You can’t just discard us like this! How on earth are we going to survive?

You should have thought of that before crossing me, shouldn’t you? replied the supervisor curtly.

I only suggested that the acid rain might have meant that the library’s radiation levels could be high, struck in Emerald, in an attempt to talk her way out of her plight.

I shan’t waste any more time talking to either of you, said the supervisor, dismissively waving her hand. I’m a very busy woman; I’ve got things to do – and if you do not leave the building at once, I’ll have the pair of you physically removed!

And with that she turned her back as if the two girls had never existed, leaving the pair with no option but to start another chapter in their lives; a chapter laced with flavours of the bleak unknown.

CHAPTER THREE

It was midnight before Sapphire had realised that sleep would escape her. Sitting up, she stretched her cancerous body, whilst Opal slumbered soundly, ensconced in the comfort of the sleeping bag beside her. To her left lay Sardonyx, also soundly asleep. At the far end of the basement, Garnet noisily snored; his limp, criminal body supinely still.

But where was Onyx, whose sleeping bag was void? Sapphire stared at it fixedly before unzipping her own, and as quietly as she could, stole out of the basement rear where she ascended the steps into the lifeless garden beyond. As she passed the waterless pond - once abound with algae and fish - she heard the remote sound of wailing, which grew louder with each step she took; no active, neon lampposts in the street to aid her vision.

Feeling her way past the bushes, she came