The Harvest (3 page)

“Should we leave
our weapons?” Maurice asked, lifting his black rifle into the
air.

“No—bring them,” he replied coolly, glancing
at Lily to give her another warning. She didn’t flinch, seeming
unconcerned his people would be armed—another notch in her
favor.

His friends and the other kids looked at one
another, then at Shane. Steve moved first, taking long, confident
strides across the yard toward the field. Kelly was second, and
then everyone else started walking. Excited chatter erupted amongst
them. As much as he wanted to embrace the atmosphere of relief, it
made Shane nervous. He feared if something did go wrong, it might
be hard for him to regain control.

When he spun and fell in step next to Kelly,
her hand slipped into his. Her touch gave him lucidity, subduing
his pain and calming his mind. The sun shone through the few
strands of golden-blonde hair she’d missed, her ponytail pulled
together in a hurry. Concern polluted her expression, her blue eyes
shifting from Lily and Nat to the choppers. Her scrutiny didn’t
harbor the fear of a naïve girl who might easily be deceived.
Instead, she appeared to size up the situation—a soldier preparing
for multiple contingencies in case things went wrong.

Her gaze fell on him, and she squeezed his
hand. No hint of awkwardness showed in her delicate features, like
they’d walked hand in hand a million times and it was perfectly
natural. Her eyes conveyed the trust and confidence she had in
him—she’d follow him anywhere. The pain from all her loss and the
horrors she’d seen made her look ten years older than she did in
church a week ago.

It hurt to remember her coming down her
driveway with her T-shirt covered in her parents’ blood, calling
for his help. But now she was wise to the harshest of realities,
battle-hardened and capable of unrestrained violence if the
situation demanded it. There was still kindness in her expression
when she looked at him. Beneath her cautious and tired exterior was
the sweet, Sunday choir-singing, varsity cheerleader he’d had a
crush on for years. Though he admired her strength and only liked
her more because of it, he intended to nurture that happier girl in
her until it dominated her personality once again.

They passed through a bent, red metal gate
and into the pasture. His brow grew moist with sweat, and it got
harder to ignore the dizziness and the pain from his injuries.
Approaching the choppers, Shane got a better look at the other CIA
types standing by the open side doors with their hands clasped
behind their backs in a nonthreatening manner, presumably waiting
to help load the children.

Maybe it was because of the black suits and
matching hairstyles, or maybe he was just growing delirious, but
they all looked so much alike—he imagined they could be siblings.
He stopped twenty feet from the aircraft and turned to Maurice.

“Divide your best fighters so all the kids
have someone older with them.” His voice sounded hoarse. Kelly put
her arm around him, discreetly helping him to stand tall.

“Don’t worry,” Maurice replied, putting a
hand on his good shoulder.

Jules stepped next to him. “We’ll make sure
some loaded guns are on every one of these helicopters.”

The squat boy and the tall, wiry girl cast
stern glances at Lily. They clearly perceived that he didn’t want
them to drop their guard until there was no doubt about these
adults’ motives.

Shane wanted to supervise himself, but he
feared he’d collapse if he didn’t sit down soon. Leaving Maurice
and Jules to tend to the rest of the kids, he followed the group
surrounding Lily to the first aircraft. It was only thirty feet
away, but it seemed like a mile. His hearing was muffled, and it
felt like his brain was spinning in his skull, but he kept it
together and took each step methodically.

After lifting Nat aboard, Kelly climbed in
and offered her hand. He must’ve looked pretty bad; her face
expressed her fear that he couldn’t make it. Her kind gesture only
added to his nausea. After hesitating, he took her hand. He
mustered his last bit of strength and stepped up without using her
help. Her needing him was okay, but him needing her was
frightening. Every woman he’d needed help from in the past was
dead.

The effort it took to get in the helicopter
was too much. He collapsed into one of the canvas seats. Gritting
his teeth to keep from vomiting, he clung to the sides of the seat.
He was vaguely aware of her settling next to him. Being off his
feet, the dizziness passed, and he regained control of his senses.
Kelly had taken the seat between him and Nat and had a hand on each
of their forearms.

Steve and Tracy joined them in the aircraft,
along with James, Sara, and a bunch of the other kids. Some of the
little ones sat two in a seat and shared a seatbelt. Once the
aircraft couldn’t hold another passenger, Lily and her male
counterpart closed the sliding doors on either side, climbing into
the cockpit without another word to Shane or his friends.

“Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk,” Tracy announced
enthusiastically, buckling her seatbelt. “Looks like the rotors
have been modified to make them stealthier. No wonder we could
barely hear these babies when they landed.”

Although he was sick from the constant pain
of his injuries and was uncomfortable with the idea of flying,
Shane couldn’t help but smile. Tracy would find delight in military
toys no matter how bad things got.

The whine of the engine and the rotor
slapping the humid air quickly made conversation impossible.
Vibrations in the aircraft amplified the pain coming from his
shoulder, and he leaned forward to find comfort. Kelly put her hand
on his back, eyeing him with concern. He gave her a weak grin, her
touch soothing him. The helicopter lifted off the ground and
climbed just above the trees, its belly scraping the forest canopy
and its whirling rotors quieting to a whisper as it accelerated
north.

Although his injuries were distracting, he
kept his attention on Lily and the pilot. Their black suits made
them seem as out of place in the cockpit as they did on the farm.
People in Leeville only wore suits for church, weddings, and
funerals, and nothing as fitted and fancy as these folks
sported.

Shane’s wariness kept him on edge and gave
him the strength to stay vigilant. If they had bad intentions, why
bother loading him and his friends and taking them somewhere else?
They could have easily disposed of them back on the farm. Heck, if
they had these helicopters, it was likely they had access to some
bombs or rockets. They could’ve just blasted the farmhouse and
killed them all while they slept—unless maybe they were taking them
to a labor camp.

Images of concentration camps he’d seen in
movies swam in his head, of starving prisoners forced to do slave
labor until they died. Then there were the buses that passed the
farmhouse. They might be picking up kids with the promise that they
were taking them to a better place, only to deposit them behind
barbed wire.

Feeling silly for the thoughts, he leaned
back and took as deep a breath as his wounds permitted. It was
irrational to be too suspicious of their rescuers. They had let him
and his friends bring their weapons after all. Just because he
wasn’t used to people wearing fancy clothes, he didn’t trust them?
How backwoods of him. But then again, if they were part of the same
government who’d mucked up and killed the adults, how could they be
trusted?

Blank expressions on their tired faces, Steve
and Kelly looked out of the windows. Ever the maternal type, Laura
shushed some of the younger kids who were frightened by the
helicopter ride. Given her jet-black hair, painted black
fingernails, and pale vampire complexion, he never expected her to
be so nurturing. Tracy scanned the inside of the aircraft, a mild
look of awe in her usually stoic gray eyes. She was leaning
forward, probably trying to keep the pressure off the stab wound in
her back, but she didn’t look as faint as he felt.

The helicopter’s engine revved, and it
climbed the ridgeline into the Appalachian Mountains, going further
north than he’d ever been. Shane knew there were areas of these
woods where no one lived, though rumor had it moonshiners still hid
out there, cooking up their poison to sell to the old timers down
in civilization. It didn’t surprise him that there was a secret
base in this wilderness—it was the perfect place.

After an hour of flying above what he
imagined was the wildest country on the East Coast, the helicopters
came over a large mesa that was cut into the side of a mountain, a
clearing amongst the ancient trees. They settled on an asphalt
runway, and Shane could see a several-acre military base stretched
out around them.

“Here we are,” Lily announced cheerfully,
climbing out of the cockpit as the rotors spun down.

She opened the side door and helped everyone
out. Upon standing, Shane grew dizzy and his knees buckled. Steve
caught him before he crumpled to the ground.

“I think we’d better get you to medical,”
Lily said, looking in his eyes. “Those wounds are getting the best
of you.”

Shane shook his head. “Not until I know all
of my people are safe,” he replied weakly.

“They will be well cared for,” Lily promised.
“It’s time for you to trust us, Shane. You need help.”

“Don’t worry, man,” Steve said, nodding
toward the other choppers. “Maurice and his gang have them.”

Following his gaze, Shane saw Maurice
ordering the armed teenagers to round up all the children, keeping
them together so he could look out for them.

“I’m going to take Nat and go with them,”
Kelly said, patting the strap of the rifle that hung off her
shoulder. “Let them treat you, or you’re no good to any of us.”

Shane glanced at the kids and then Kelly one
last time before nodding to Lily.

“Follow me,” she directed, starting across
the tarmac.

“I got you,” Steve said, slipping his thick
arm around Shane’s back. “I feel like a sack of shit for cutting
you like that.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” he replied weakly,
feeling less guilty about Steve’s bruised and swollen face.

Beyond the shadow of the chopper’s main
rotor, the sun shined full in his face, blinding him. He closed his
eyes and tilted his head, his eyelids glowing red and his face
absorbing the warmth. His foot caught on a crack in the blacktop,
and the jarring sent pain blazing from his shoulder. Sweat wept
from his forehead, and the world spun around him. Gritting his
teeth, he tried to focus on Lily’s back. Keeping it together and
standing tall was all that was important at the moment. He wasn’t
going to look weak in front of their hosts. He also didn’t want the
kids spilling out of the helicopters to be alarmed, though they’d
seen so much horror that he doubted they’d flinch even if he
dropped dead.

“Damn you, Steve.” He made an effort at
chiding for a distraction. “You could’ve found a smaller
knife.”

“Hey man, go big or quit, right?” Any humor
in Steve’s joke was lost, his voice ripe with worry. “You want me
to carry you, man?” he whispered.

“No way—I’m cool.”

A bent shadow lay on the ground ahead.
Seconds before, the sun had felt wonderful. Now, the tarmac was an
inferno. Shane looked up at a metal building, its roof curved and
corrugated like it was made out of half of a huge drainpipe. A
white door with a red cross on it graced its otherwise olive-green
exterior. Lily opened it and stood by, and Steve helped Shane into
the air-conditioned interior. The cool air reviving him, he passed
through a small outer waiting area, down a narrow hallway and into
another room.

“Put him there, and I’ll go get the doctor,”
Lily said, pointing at an examination table.

Steve guided Shane to the table, and he sat
on the edge. As soon as Lily stepped out, he leaned over, too dizzy
to keep his head up.

“Whoa,” Steve exclaimed, catching him before
he could roll onto the floor. “She’s gone. You can lie down, tough
guy.”

Shane didn’t resist Steve pushing him onto
the padded table. The pain and dizziness faded when he lay down. He
closed his eyes, taking deliberate slow breaths to try to regain
his strength. If things suddenly went wacked, which had happened a
lot lately, he needed to be ready to fight. Right now, he felt
absolutely useless.

The door opened, and a brunette woman wearing
a white lab coat entered.

“Lily?” Shane asked, confused as to why she’d
step out saying she was off to get the doctor and return wearing a
lab coat, like it was some kind of a game.

“No—I’m Doctor Blain,” the woman replied.

“What—are you
guys twins or something?” Steve asked, confusion clear in his
voice.

“Something like that.” The woman smiled at
him, and Steve blushed, glancing down.