The Harvest (14 page)

“Tracy,” she replied warily and shook it.

“You play a bit?” he asked, looking at Shane,
and then Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve grunted. “Football.”

“Like with pads?” One of Liam’s friends, a
dark-haired Eurasian kid with a wiry build, joined in.

Shane detected a hint of mischief in both
Aussies’ eyes.

“Yeah,” Steve replied. “But we hit harder
than y’all do.”

“Of course you do,” Liam said, smiling and
extending his hand to Steve.

They shook, and Shane got the sense his
friends would get along well with these witty kids. The Australians
were all boys from the same rugby team. Liam introduced the rest of
them, saying what each of their positions were. Although they were
a bit arrogant about the superiority of their sport, they seemed a
heck of a lot nicer than some of the other teams.

“Those Russians are a nasty bunch,” Liam
said, falling in stride next to Shane. “I figure if we join forces,
they won’t be so likely to muck with us. If you Yanks are
game.”

“Yanks?” Shane eyed him, lowering his brow
and making an effort to look offended.

“Sorry, mate. That’s what we call you where
I’m from,” he replied, smiling his crooked-toothed smile. “Not a
derogatory name at all. We love you blokes, we do.”

“Oh,” Shane replied coldly. “Some people from
the South may not take to the label, that’s all.”

“That’s right,” Liam replied nervously, like
he was worried he’d just dropped a major insult. “I remember from
history class. Yankee was the name for the people from the North
during your Civil War.”

“Exactly,” Shane replied. He scowled for a
second longer, but he couldn’t keep from cracking up.

Breaking into relieved laughter, Liam caught
on that Shane was messing with him.

“I think joining ranks would be an awesome
idea,” Shane added. They could help each other, though he wouldn’t
forget they’d still be in competition. He guessed Liam was thinking
the same thing.

“Then it’s done. Americans and Australians.
What should we call ourselves? Team AA?”

Steve and Kelly chuckled.

“I reckon we’re too young to be drunks,”
Steve said. He’d stepped to the other side of Liam. “But if stuff
gets much crazier, I’m thinking I might give it a try.”

Shane didn’t laugh. It made him think of his
dad and the last time he saw him alive. He’d been drunk and angry,
driving home from Granny’s funeral. All he could think of was the
argument they had, and how he’d almost punched his dad. He felt
ashamed and cheated. Why couldn’t his last memory of his dad be a
good one? If only they could’ve had one more day under the hood of
a car, working in the shade of the garage. Those were the memories
he cherished. He wished he could forget the bad times, which,
unfortunately, outnumbered the good ever since his mom died of
cancer.

Kelly must’ve sensed his sudden gloom. She
covertly grabbed his hand and squeezed just before they entered the
cafeteria. Inside, they got in line and were served biscuits and
gravy, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, and fruit by many of the
junior high and younger high school kids from Leeville. There was
also rice, vegetables, and several dishes he didn’t recognize—food
to satisfy all the international teams. Some of the girls who were
attacked in the gym were behind the counter. Shane smiled at them,
and they smiled back this time. It warmed his heart to see them
recovering—the work had to be doing them good.

Shane watched his friends and the Aussies’
spirits lift as they heaped food on their plates. He was the last
one to get a tray, wondering how this supposedly small group of
rebel aliens had the logistics to supply such a spread.

“I’m going to eat with Nat,” Kelly whispered,
looking across the cafeteria to the table where the young kids were
sitting.

“Okay,” he replied. “But steer clear of the
other teams.”

“Don’t worry.” She winked at him. “I can
handle myself.”

He knew she could, but he kept an eye on her
until she made it to the kids’ tables. And when he sat down with
the rest of Team AA, he took a stool on the side that allowed him
to face in her direction so he could make sure nothing stupid
happened.

“We should say grace,” Maurice announced,
stopping half the kids mid-bite. He gave them all a firm look. “We
need God on our side, now more than ever.”

Shane wasn’t opposed to praying. His dad
wasn’t openly religious and never went to church, but Granny always
said grace before eating. So had his mother before she died. The
Aussies looked at one another, then at the Americans, a mild
expression of discomfort and surprise on their faces.

“Sorry,” Laura replied sincerely. “But I’m
not sure I’m okay with that.”

Maurice studied her for a moment, his face
blank like he was processing. Without any expression of
disappointment, he grinned and said, “Okay.”

He lowered his head and interlaced his
fingers, his lips moving silently as he said his prayer.

Whether she was accustomed to saying grace or
was just trying to make sure Maurice didn’t feel alone, Jules also
began to pray. Knowing the boy’s strength came from his
spirituality, Shane wanted to support him. However, when he lowered
his head, anger flashed in him. He hadn’t given God much thought
since the animals started attacking the adults. Then, he’d worried
it may be the beginning of the apocalypse mentioned in the Bible.
But the things that had happened, the things he’d seen, didn’t
inspire faith.

He kept his head down, knowing he needed to
be careful and not insult anyone else’s beliefs. Whether they bowed
their heads or not, he reckoned faith might be the only thing to
carry some of them through the hardest moments they’d likely
endure. It sure seemed to be Maurice’s primary motivation.

When Maurice whispered amen, Shane waited a
few seconds more, and then lifted his head. A few of the kids in
the Israeli group were looking at his table. One of them nodded at
him and gave a little grin. Perhaps they were religious too and
respected how some of the kids at his table had said grace. If it
earned them more allies, Shane would do it at every meal,
regardless of how much it pissed him off.

Everyone fell on their food like they’d just
been rescued from a deserted island and hadn’t eaten in months. No
one spoke a word for the ten minutes it took for their plates to be
picked clean.

“She have someone over there?” Jake, the wiry
Aussie with black hair asked, nodding in Kelly’s direction. He had
bright, almond-shaped eyes and a splash of brown freckles across
his nose and cheeks.

“Yeah,” Shane replied. “A little sister.”

“Makes it so much harder.” The boy’s voice
cracked. “I’ve a little brother back home. Miss him so much. She’s
lucky to have her family close by.”

“Is he being cared for?” It stung to think
Shane didn’t have any family left.

“Yeah. The aliens promised they’d set up
facilities to look after the younger kids.”

“That’s good,” Shane said.

“It is. I wouldn’t have left my brother if I
didn’t think he was safe,” he replied, a tremor in his voice.

Lily made it seem like there weren’t that
many of her kind. There had to be more than just a handful in
different countries around the world to be able to raise armies and
take care of the young. There must be thousands, if not hundreds of
thousands.

Shane finished his meal, never taking his
eyes off Kelly. He watched her hug her sister and make her way
across the cafeteria to his table.

“You okay?”

“Just barely.” She used a finger to scrape
away a tear. “She seems happy. Apparently, they’ve set up a
building with lots of toys, and they’re starting school today.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Of course. I just miss her so much. I feel
like we should be spending more time together, after what
happened.” Her voice trailed off.

“Well,” Steve said, blinking his eyes like he
was suppressing a wave of emotion, “let’s kick some Anunnaki butt
so you can get back to her.” As far as Shane knew, he didn’t have
anyone left either.

The rest of the table stood, and they headed
to the hangar where Jones spoke to them earlier. This time, the
Aussies sat in the same row as the Americans. The Russians came in
afterwards. Tracy sat at the end of the row. She stuck her foot out
just as one of the dark-haired, cackling boys who’d harassed Steve
in the bathroom walked by.

She locked ankles with him and jerked her leg
back. The boy crashed forward, hitting the Russian girl in front of
him. Both landed in a pile on the floor.

“Oops. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Tracy
asked sarcastically.

The Russian girl snapped at the boy and
pushed him off her. He stood and gave a threatening smile.

“Oh yes, we are fine,” he said in English
with his thick accent.

“Too bad,” Steve said hostilely. “Better luck
next time.”

The rest of the Russians gathered around the
two who’d fallen. They glared at Shane’s group, perhaps deciding if
they wanted a fight.

“You Yanks having troubles?” Liam asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Shane couldn’t help joining
in the fun. “I’m not sure if y’all have been introduced.
Australians, meet the Russians.”

“Pleasure, I’m sure,” Liam replied.

“To answer your question…” Shane looked at
the Russian boy and girl, raising his brow. “I don’t know. Are we
having troubles?”

“Please say yes,” Steve said, crossing his
thick arms.

They scowled at the Americans and Aussies for
a moment, then continued up two rows and took their seats.

“I didn’t think so,” Tracy said.

“I thought we weren’t going to sink to their
level,” Kelly, who was sitting on Shane’s right, scolded.

“I never said that,” Tracy snapped. “We have
to show those losers we ain’t taking any crap, or they’ll never
leave us alone.”

Shane’s gaze fell on the kids from Finland.
All but two were blonds, and they had pale skin. They chatted
quietly among themselves, but he didn’t see any of them smile.

“Those guys look tough,” Liam said quietly,
following Shane’s gaze.

“Know anything about them?”

“Not much, but I’ve heard the Finns are not
to be trifled with. You know their little country had to fend off
the USSR for a long time.”

“That’s good,” Shane whispered, trying to
remember his geography. “Maybe they’ll side with us if push comes
to shove.”

“Quiet,” Captain Jones ordered, mounting the
stage.

His sweeping scrutiny connected with
everyone’s eyes, as if ensuring he had their attention before
beginning the lecture. The effect was immediate. All forty-nine
kids fell silent.

“A critical part of your training will be
conducted in simulations. The device in your ear will create the
simulations in your brain while your body sits motionless in these
chairs.”

Shane wondered what else the tiny piece of
advanced technology could do. Perhaps blow their heads off if they
suddenly weren’t compliant.

“Once the neural link is activated, you’ll no
longer be aware of this reality. Through these simulations, you
will get an intimate exposure to Anunnaki technology and to the
mission in general.”

Shane glanced nervously at Kelly. He wasn’t
excited about having the earbud take over his senses, but couldn’t
come up with a reasonable objection.

“The first time can be a bit of a shock,”
Jones warned. “Close your eyes and relax.”

He closed his eyes but held his breath in
anticipation. Kelly’s hand slipped into his, and he squeezed. A
flash of white burst through his brain, accompanied by a buzzing
sound, like a bee was stuck in his ear. Shane opened his eyes and
blinked at the brightness. The light faded to normal sunlight, and
he was standing on a flat field with shortly mown grass, like a
golf course with no hills, flags, or holes. There was no end to the
perfectly level terrain. It stretched to the horizon, meeting a
cloudless, blue sky.

“Holy crap,” Steve muttered.

Shane rotated toward his voice and saw the
other forty-eight kids standing in a cluster behind him. They had
stunned expressions, glancing at each other and at the field in
bewilderment. They were dressed in the red armor he’d seen the
rebels and the Anunnaki wearing in the video of the battle Lily had
shown them just after they arrived at the base. The girls’ armor
had wider hips and a more feminine curve to the chests and
shoulders, but otherwise, they were all identical. Shane felt a
gurgle in his stomach, and a metallic taste corrupted his mouth.
One of the Finns turned and barfed on the grass.

“Gross,” Laura hissed, her face green. She
pushed by him to get away from the boy.

“On second thought, maybe they’re not so
tough,” Liam observed, looking a bit pale himself.

“This first time in the simulation can cause
some nausea,” Jones explained, strolling around the perimeter of
the group. “Understand that you are not really getting sick. You’re
still sitting in the chair in the hangar. This field, the armor you
wear, and the vomit in your mouth are all a creation in your mind.
Everyone take a deep breath. Relax and don’t fight the
simulation.”

Hoping to stop himself from being the next to
hurl, Shane did as instructed and saw the rest of the kids do the
same. Jones had them breathe deep for a minute until everyone’s
pallor returned to normal.

“Wicked,” Jake said, examining the red
armor.

It was. Shane imagined this was the future of
video games—if there was a future at all.

“This is the extent of the simulation
today—it is a chance for you to grow accustomed to the artificial
environment. Tomorrow, you will begin training for the mission in
here. Meanwhile, we are going to introduce some things you will
need to become familiar with to infiltrate the enemy.