An Apple

Andre came to with a dull ache in the back of his skull and warm green light bathing his bound body. Initially, indiscernible, shifting green filled his vision with a striking blob of purple some distance away before shapes started to materialize. Around him, trees, bushes and vines reached upwards towards the powerful light that shone through the leaves. It had been some time since he’d been in a chlorophyll tower. Except for those who took care of them, few cared to visit the buildings that supported humanity’s voracious appetite.

The purple blob moved, became a person in the shadow of a thick-trunked tree.

“Want an apple?” Molly asked him, moving closer. Her thin, purple braids swayed as she crab-walked towards him, avoiding the thick foliage. Andre watched her extend the fruit to his face, the light glittering off the metallic skeleton where synthetic flesh had long ago peeled or had been ripped away. His feet were tied to a thick sapling and his hands were bound to a tree behind him, but the girl still looked as though he might leap on her at any moment.

“You have anything to get rid of this busted head you gave me?” he asked, leaning away from the offering.

“You’re not bleeding anymore,” Molly answered, taking back the fruit and frowning. Why did she look hurt? Neither her childish features nor her mannerisms betrayed the fact that she was at least twice as old as he was.

“Thanks,” Andre replied. “Why’d you bring me here? Ransom? You know this game. It ain’t gonna help any keepin’ me like this.” Molly shrugged, took a bite of the apple and moved back to her original position.

“I don’t know. I just felt like taking you I guess,” she said. He watched Molly eat the apple, all the while tugging at the restraints, one by one. He had escaped from more difficult situations. It felt like the ropes were woven plant-fibers. They had no give or seams in them that he could unwind or crack. The fact that she sat there so calmly, eating, not even looking at her prisoner unnerved him. It unnerved him even more that he had no idea why he was here and not dead or being tortured.

“What the fuck do you want?” Andre yelled. Somewhere out there, there were bound to be field-hands, workers, gardeners. Someone. Maybe they would come. Maybe he could bribe them to let him go.

“Yelling isn’t going to help. We’re alone,” Molly said. In the distance a bird screeched and a sound of clapping wings filled the air, as though to reinforce Molly’s words. This must have been what the old forests and jungles were like, somewhere out there beyond the cities that towered like mountain-ranges above their desolate surroundings.

Except everything in this building served a purpose, had been engineered and re-wired, with plants and animals within it all somehow part-machine. Even his own body would not pass inspection by purists. Not that he cared. Especially now, tied to a tree, watching this strange half-girl crush apple seeds between her teeth.