The Harvest (10 page)

“I’m not sure we’re the right people for
this.” Laura crossed her arms and rolled her shoulders forward,
seeming to get smaller. “I mean, what experience do we have? Those
Koreans have been practicing martial arts all of their lives.”

“Look,” Tracy snapped. “These aliens brought
us the internet, computers, cellphones—hell, they came here in a
spaceship. They’re way more advanced than we are, and I’d have to
say a heck of a lot smarter. I don’t think they’d have chosen us if
we weren’t good candidates. Out of all the billions of kids left on
the planet, they picked just forty-nine. Why waste their time on us
if we couldn’t hang?”

“She’s right,” Maurice seconded, though with
more compassion than Tracy would ever manage. “We may not be the
ones who’ll take out the flagship, but we have to do our absolute
best. Those kids we fought so hard to protect need us now more than
ever. According to Lilith and her friends, the whole world needs
us.”

“And Aaron, Matt, and Billy gave their
lives,” Steve said mournfully, eyes heavy and somber. “We owe it to
them to do our best.”

“I’ll die before I let anyone hurt my
sister,” Kelly snarled. “If there’s a fight that’s going to save
her, I have to be in it.”

The rage and aggression he’d seen when they
fought Shamus’ gang in Atlanta entered her eyes. She was a cornered
lioness, ready to use tooth and claw to protect Nat. The look was
the opposite of the one the sweet girl he’d gone to church with on
Sundays and had a crush on for most of his life had worn. Her
ferocity would cause even the bravest man to cower, and it was hard
to hold eye contact with her for more than a couple of seconds.

“Give it a few days, Laura,” Shane said. “I
think you may surprise us all.”

“Yeah,” Kelly agreed, her features softening.
“We just have to stick together, and we’ll do fine.”

It was abundantly clear to Shane—their
ability to transform from quiet, humble kids from Leeville into
violent warriors was why they were here. He wasn’t proud of what
he’d done—the lives he’d taken. The thought of hurting anyone or
anything else made his stomach turn. But as much as he hated the
realization, he was good at killing when the situation demanded it.
Not something he would’ve thought to put on his résumé until
recently. Aliens indirectly murdering his dad and coming here to
enslave the girl he loved were situations that justified some
killing—that was for damn sure.

Laura must have the same strengths, but she
hadn’t gone downtown with them. According to Jones, the rebels were
going to put them through some vigorous training. He reckoned
they’d soon learn what Laura was capable of, and then her doubts
would fade, and Tracy would show her more respect.

“I’m stepping
out for some fresh air,” Shane said, overwhelmed and exhausted from
being around them. “You guys should do as Jones said and settle
in.”

He didn’t want to appear weak to his friends,
knowing they would look to him for leadership, but he needed a
moment to clear his mind. Without giving them a second glance, he
headed out of the barracks.

The door squeaked closed, and he stood on the
edge of the tarmac. The hot August sun shined full in his face. He
closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the distracting
heat soak him.

Opening his eyes, he noticed a narrow egress
between the barracks and the hangar next door. He strolled into it,
searching for what he hoped was easy access to the woods. As he
walked the length of the paved alley, the sappy and earthy smell of
the forest grew in intensity, displacing the diesel fuel and tar
odor that polluted it on the tarmac. At the rear of the buildings,
Shane crossed a narrow strip of fescue-riddled gravel and pushed
through the briars. Eight feet in, the undergrowth cleared. The
mingling canopies of old oaks and pines blocked the light such that
only ferns, poison oak, holly, and other shrubbery could survive on
the shadowy forest floor.

The moist fragrance of the forest initially
swept away his stress. He stretched his arms upward and rose onto
his tiptoes, sighing deeply like he’d just returned home from a
long day at school. This very same forest reached all the way down
the spine of the Appalachian Mountains into Leeville.

The base sat near the top of a mountain, and
a few yards into the forest, the grade dropped off steeply. Shane
came to the first tall oak, its girth fifteen feet around, and its
roots stretching out through the soft soil, creating ridges between
piles of leaf litter and acorns. The majestic tree had to be over
two hundred years old. He put his hand on its coarse, gray bark,
his fingers digging into the soft moss clinging to it. Closing his
eyes, he imagined his ancestors walking through this forest. They
may have touched this very tree. He could feel its old soul,
shushing him and telling him everything would be all right.

Drinking in deep breaths of the sweet forest
smells, he hiked down for ten minutes. He opened his eyes just wide
enough to keep from bumping into the trees. The leaves crunching
under the running shoes provided with his black garb covered all
other sounds.

It didn’t take long for him to feel he was
much farther away from the base than he actually was. When he came
upon a thick tree fallen across his path, he climbed onto it and
sat, facing downhill. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.
It felt like iron bands fell away from his chest and stacks of
cinderblocks rolled off his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how
stressed he’d become and wondered how much more a person could take
before breaking.

It was the first time he was able to relax
in… what? Well, he reckoned it was just a few days, but it felt
like a lifetime. Being an only child, he wasn’t used to having
people around him all the time. Usually, he got hours alone each
day, and he needed those moments to recharge.

The chirping birds and the rhythm of a
woodpecker’s hammering shattered his tranquility. Squirrels rustled
through the trees above him, bringing a surge of fear. These
animals might have killed some poor moonshiner in these woods. What
if they had a taste for human blood and came after him? He was
unarmed and too far from the base to outrun them. They’d tear him
to shreds, and no one would hear his screams.

Focusing on how the alligator-skin bark of
the old pine pinched his bottom for a distraction, he tried to
ignore the absurd rush of terror. But then he started worrying the
carpenter ants might attack him. Their powerful mandibles could
take a tree apart—what could they do to his flesh?

He wanted to be lulled by nature’s soothing
chorus, but he feared it might never sound as pleasing to him as it
had before the critters went berserk.
It wasn’t the animals’
fault
, he told himself. They were forced to attack the adults
and would never act that way in the absence of the limbic
manipulator. As usual when he kept still in the woods, the sounds
grew louder and the animals became comfortable with his presence.
Determined to face this fear head-on, he resisted the urge to shout
and clap his hands to chase them away. He closed his eyes and
forced himself to listen.

Ten minutes may have passed, or even a half
hour, in his struggle to find peace, Shane couldn’t tell. A subtle
crunching sound sent a surge of panic through him. He opened his
eyes to a deer, nosing around in the underbrush for a snack.
Scanning its hoofs, he was relieved to see they weren’t stained
with blood. Shane tried to remember how he used to enjoy seeing
deer in their natural habitat, doing what they did when no one was
around.

Staring at the animal, he started to convince
himself to ignore the irrational fears. But then the animal made
him think about Aaron. A rush of grief obliterated his calm.
Damn death
. He missed his best friend. Before, he’d hated
the idea of killing such a pretty creature, and always got nauseous
when Aaron or Steve bragged about one of their hunting trips. But
now, he’d be glad to see a thousand deer die if he could get his
friends and family back.

The doe raised her head, as if sensing the
eruption of his inner turmoil. She looked past him, stiff, with her
ears perked and trained up the hill. He held his breath, worried
she might try to leap on him. Lifting her head higher, she seemed
to pick up a sound he couldn’t perceive. In a flash of chestnut,
the doe darted through the trees, flagging her white tail. The
report of her pointed hoofs piercing the leaf litter receded until
all evidence of her presence vanished.

Shane kept perfectly still, wondering what
he’d done to startle her. Did she pick up on his anxiety over
remembering Aaron’s death? He’d heard dogs and horses could sense
human emotion, but he never suspected wild animals had the same
ability. A noise behind him solved the mystery. It was a delicate
sound, seeming to come from two feet and not four. The only animal
who made that sort of noise in the woods was a human, though the
person was moving with the stealth of a prowling cat.

Hoping whoever walked down the hill behind
him would find their own place of solitude and not discover his,
Shane kept still and didn’t look back. The birds and the squirrels
grew silent, wary of the new trespasser. In that moment, he felt
like one of them, wanting to dart up a tree and hide until the
human passed and the wild symphony could crescendo once again.

“Shane?” Kelly’s honeyed voice carried
through the trees, timid, like she worried he may not want to be
disturbed.

“Yeah.” He twisted on the log and saw her
fifteen yards up, peering between the thick trunks. He was awash
with relief. It didn’t bother him that she’d followed. “Come on
down and sit for a spell.”

More adept at walking quietly in the forest
than he would have ever expected, she made her way to his log. He
helped her climb on. After sitting, she inched closer until she
pressed against him and then stared off into the forest, perhaps
sensing he didn’t come out here for conversation.

They sat hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder,
neither saying a word. The animals resumed their song, growing
accustomed to the new visitor. Shane’s pulse kicked up to a gallop,
this time not because of fear of the animals.

“I love the woods,” Shane stammered, trying
to control his excitement at being alone and so near to her. He
wished he could be cool and suave like the dudes he’d seen in the
movies, but he could barely think.

“I used to,” she replied. “It used to make me
feel closer to God when I was in the forest.”

“Yeah.” It was something Granny would say. No
wonder he liked Kelly so much. “What’s wrong now?”

“Guess I’m weirded out by the animals.” She
glanced around, her eyes wide with concern. “I don’t think I’ll
ever be able to look at them the same.”

“Don’t worry, Kelly,” he said, grabbing her
hand. “That was all because of the limbic manipulator.” He didn’t
let on that he’d been thinking the same thing, wanting to be strong
for her.

“I know,” she said, looking at him bashfully.
“It’s just hard to forget what I saw. That horrible day when it all
started—it’s like the images are always there in my mind, waiting
for me to blink or go to sleep so they can torment me.”

He pushed the hair out of her face and gently
rested his hand on the back of her neck. “I didn’t let the critters
get to you in Atlanta, and I won’t let anything hurt you now, or
ever.”

She smiled, the corner of her lip trembling
like she might reply. An unexpected look of concern showed on her
face, like she didn’t like what he’d just said. He looked at her,
nervous he’d done something wrong. She leaned closer and pressed
her soft lips against his. Lingering in the kiss, she slid her free
hand up, resting it on his chest. Shane was sure she could feel his
heart pounding. Her touch and the taste of her mouth ignited a fire
in him that burned away his anxiety.

His attention was drawn from everything
around him, entirely focused on her. He wanted more than just the
kiss, his head spinning with desire. He wanted to touch her, to
press her against him, but he held back, afraid of moving too fast
and pushing her away. She pulled her lips from his and smiled,
sighing like she was resisting the urge to do more. Laying her head
on his shoulder, she pulled his hand into her lap, squeezing it
between her thighs, most of which were left exposed by her black
running shorts. Her skin felt like heaven, and it made him dizzy to
touch her. The flowery smell of whatever shampoo she’d found in the
barracks mixed with the piney fragrance of the forest.

He struggled to relax and just sit quietly
next to her, but the inferno she’d ignited in him made it hard to
keep still, made it hard to breathe. Being this close to Kelly
Douglas, inhaling her fragrance and feeling her touch—his wildest
fantasies were coming true. He resisted the urge to turn her toward
him and kiss her again, afraid of coming on too strong.