They Call Me the Gardener of Gods, Yet My Sister Is Their Prey

I stood at the camp's iron gate with Lucy in my arms for three hours.

The guard captain was named Harrison, a bald man with a face full of pustules.

He pressed his gun barrel against my forehead: "Kid, no camp takes in trash."

I kept my head down, my arms tightly holding my sister's thin body.

She was eight years old but weighed only forty pounds, terribly weakened.

"I can farm."

"Farm?"

"Outside there are man-eating mutant plants everywhere, what the fuck are you going to farm?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Lucy went limp in my arms.

My heart stopped. I quickly laid her flat on the ground.

Her lips were purple, breathing shallow. Long-term malnutrition plus dehydration had nearly broken her.

"Water! Give her some water! Please!"

Harrison kicked Lucy's shoulder: "If she's dead, throw her out."

My fingernails dug into my palms. I knew I couldn't make a move.

I closed my eyes and pressed my hand to the ground.

A small vine drilled out from a crack in the ground, with a red tomato growing at its tip. I picked it, squeezed the skin, and dripped the juice into Lucy's mouth.

Harrison froze.

I felt dizziness wash over me, my vision blurred.

This was the price of catalyzing plants—life force. I had just overdrafted at least three days' worth of stamina.

"So you're an ability user."

Harrison grinned, "Should've said so earlier."

He kicked open the iron gate: "Come in. The Prophet will want to see you."

……

The Prophet's office was on the top floor of the church in the camp's center.

He sat in a gilded chair, wearing white robes, with a gentle smile on his face.

"Welcome to Eden." He stood up and reached out to touch Lucy's forehead.

"Poor child. Harrison told me you can water plants?"

"A little. I can only grow vegetables."

"Modesty is a virtue, but in the apocalypse, virtue doesn't put food on the table."

"Our camp happens to need a gardener. Would you be willing to help?"

"As long as you can take care of my sister."

The Prophet picked up a small bottle from his desk: "This is holy water, it calms and helps with sleep. Your sister is very weak, give her a spoonful every day."

I took the bottle, feeling relieved. At least he didn't seem like a bad person.

"You'll stay in a shack in the east district tonight. Report to the greenhouse tomorrow morning. Don't worry, Eden will protect you."

As I reached the door, Silas called out: "By the way, what's your name?"

"Aiden."

"Aiden." He repeated it, his smile deepening, "Good name. God's gardener."

……

The east district shack was made of scrap metal and rags, but at least it was shelter.

I laid Lucy on the mattress, covered her with a blanket, and fed her a spoonful of holy water.

I sat by the bed, looking at her face. She looked a lot like Mom—golden hair, an upturned nose, and when she slept, the corners of her mouth always curved slightly upward.

I reached up and touched my own hair. Another strand had turned white.

Every time I used my ability, my stamina weakened a bit. I didn't know how much longer I could hold on.

But it didn't matter. As long as Lucy could survive.

……

The next day, greenhouse supervisor Marcus looked at me once and sneered: "With your scrawny body, what can you do?"

I walked to the withered tomato vines and pressed my hands into the soil. The vines began to grow, dead leaves turned green, buds bloomed, fruits swelled. Ten minutes later, all the tomatoes in the greenhouse had ripened.

Marcus's eyes widened, then he forced a smile: "Not bad! From now on, you're in charge of this greenhouse. Come at six every morning, leave at nine at night."

"What about rations?"

"Rations? You have so many vegetables, can't you save some for yourself? In Eden, no one gives you anything for free. Understand?"

I bit my teeth and nodded.

……

For the next two weeks, I watered vegetables in the greenhouse every day until I collapsed from exhaustion before returning to the shack.

Marcus withheld rations every time, and even threatened to tell Silas I was stealing crops.

I didn't resist. Lucy needed this camp, needed a safe place.

But Lucy's condition got worse and worse. She started having nightmares every night.

I went to find Silas. After listening, he frowned: "The child probably just hasn't adapted to the new environment yet. How about this—I'll have Lucy join the choir. During the day she can sing and pray with the other children, it'll be much better."

"Really?"

"Of course." Silas patted my shoulder, "Trust me, Aiden. I'll take good care of her."

He gave me another bottle of holy water: "You can try this again, two spoonfuls a day."

I thanked him and turned to leave.

……

On the fifteenth day, Marcus had me a batch of herbs; the camp needed medicinal herbs for treatment.

After the herbs, I collapsed on the ground, feeling like I was being completely hollowed out.

Marcus walked over and kicked my waist: "Get up, stop playing dead."

He sneered and drew a whip from his waist: "Are you fucking deaf?"

The moment the whip was raised, I closed my eyes and used my last bit of strength to promote the vines beneath my feet.

The vine shot out and wrapped around Marcus's ankle, slamming him hard into the nearby mutant cactus cluster.

Marcus's screams echoed through the greenhouse.

I supported myself on the ground to stand, dizzy and vision blurred, dragging my weakened body out of the greenhouse and back to the shack.

The moment I pushed open the door, I froze.

Lucy lay on the bed, her face as white as paper.

On her arms, eerie blue-green veins were spreading.

Like vines, crawling beneath her skin.