Harvest Page 7

  He looked in the direction he felt the voice had come from and saw three dark shadows blot out the light as they came towards him. He wrapped both arms tighter around the kid. His knees threatened to buckle, but Dave stood tall, ready to fight if he had to.

  “What the hell do you want? Why are you here?” Dave’s low voice carried an edge of steel that he’d never felt the need for before in his entire life.

  JUDGEMENT, Judgment, judgment…..the guttural voice boomed inside his head and bounced around, fading off into a distant echo.

  “What do mean judgment? What the fuck does that mean?.” Dave tried to back up slowly, but two more shadows came up behind him. He stopped. The little boy whimpered.

  PAIN, LIFE, RESPECT, KILL, PAIN, LIFE, RESPECT, KILL. These words repeated and reverberated inside Dave’s skull, escalating in their volume and intensity. He tucked his chin down over the child’s head, wanting to cover his ears, but knowing he couldn’t let go of the boy. It hurt. The words rubbed against the soft tissue of his brain like sandpaper.

  “Stop, Jesus, Stop! Please, stop!” Dave begged for them to stop speaking in his head. His eyes reflected his anguish and an increasing anger. He pushed past the pain to speak.

  “Listen. He’s just a little boy. He doesn’t understand. Just let him go, please.”

  The shadow in the center drew closer until Dave could feel its putrid breath fanning over his skin. He held his breath.

  It reached towards them and hovered over their heads. Dave felt his heart pounding, his lungs bursting, needing air, and his chest constricting. In one huge gasp, he sucked in much needed air and choked on the grainy sulfuric taste that hit his tongue. It was getting to be too much. He knew he was going to pass out soon.

  One word registered in his head before blackness overtook him. CHANGE.

  The world went black.

  Chapter 8

  “Dave! Oh God. Dave!”

  Something was slapping him hard across the face. Dave swam to consciousness through murky waters. It was beating him. It was killing him!

  He swung out, fighting for dear life. The damn thing was trying to kill him!

  “David! Son! Stop, stop!”

  Dave heard his mother’s voice and opened his eyes. He looked around him. His mom was standing to his right, holding the boy who was now wrapped in a blanket.

  He looked down and saw that his hands were grasping the front of Maggie’s jacket while her small hands tried to restrain his wrists.

  “Dave, it’s okay. Relax.” Maggie voice was soothing. It felt like cool water running over heated skin. He inhaled. All he could smell now was cool crisp air, and Maggie. He reached out and engulfed her in a tight embrace. The lavender scent of her soap was so sweet; he never wanted to breathe anything else again.

  “We have to get out of here” he said, finally. He got up quickly, extending his hand to Maggie and pulling her up alongside him.

  “Who’s this?” Lynda asked.

  Dave ran his hands over his scalp, remembering the pain, the warning. He felt overly anxious, knowing they needed to get out of there now.

  “I don’t exactly know, mom.” Replied Dave. “Hey buddy. What’s your name?” he asked, sounding out of breath.

  “Billy” came the soft reply. Billy’s big brown eyes stared with curiosity at Maggie. Maggie couldn’t resist his inspection and put her arms out. Billy went right into them.

  “Did you hear that, son? His name is Billy, just like your father.” Lynda Forrester’s eyes welled up with tears. She turned to Dave.

  “What happened? What did you find?”

  Dave didn’t know how to answer her. He didn’t think he could ever bring himself to tell her what had happened to her husband, his dad, everyone.

  “Let’s just get to the truck.” He ushered them towards the road. He put his arm around Maggie, and took his mother’s hand.

  “I thought I told you to leave if I didn’t get back in twenty minutes” he whispered in Maggie’s ear.

  “Did you honestly think I’d leave you?” She looked up at him.

  Dave tried to hide a smile of gratitude. He was happy she was still here, but was also concerned that she and his mom could have been hauled off to the feedlot, still could be if they didn’t get the hell out of here.

  He kissed the top of her head and said nothing.

  When they reached the truck, they piled inside without a word. Maggie sat in the middle, holding Billy. Dave took off slowly down the road, heading for Tulsa through the falling snow. In the rearview mirror, he could see bright lights leaving the lot one after the other. When the last one ascended, the silo exploded and the feedlot burst into flames.

  Everyone turned around at the sound of the explosion. Silently, Dave said a prayer for all those who had just met with a fiery death. He didn’t know if he could ever tell mom and Maggie what he’d seen, what he’d witnessed. Maybe it was better to keep it from them. Maybe if he hid it deep down inside him, he could sleep at night. Maybe some day, they’d all be able to sleep at night again.

  Dave drove on. No one spoke.

  An hour down the road, somewhere along I44, bright lights were heading towards them coming from Tulsa. Dave flinched and pulled off to the side of the road. As they got closer, one large light turned into two headlights. Headlights! They were headlights.

  Everyone held their breath as the car pulled up beside them. Each driver exited their vehicle slowly, walked to the middle of the road, and reached out to shake each other’s hand.

  Some small relief, and no small amount of hope welled within the hearts of those meeting in the middle of the highway. Stories were exchanged, stories that matched in almost every detail except for location. People disappearing. Shadows. Empty clothes. Blood stains. Stray cattle. Explosions at local feedlots. Very few survivors.

  Dave listened to the other driver talking with Maggie and his mom. He watched as they foraged around for some clothes in the back of their trunk that might fit Billy. They now knew that no matter where they go, they would have to begin again.

  As the last of the fading day died away into the snowy night, one word echoed inside Dave Forrester’s mind, reminding him why they were still here.

  Change.

  The end? Or is it the beginning?

  Preview ‘The Maze’; author Michele Gwynn’s next Sci-Fi short story coming soon.

  The Maze

  Prologue

  I never thought I’d be traveling down a country road on the front porch of my home as it levitated two feet off the ground. Even stranger, I never thought I’d be standing on that levitating house holding the hand of a creepy thirty-year-old toddler named Evie. I never thought. I just reacted.

  It’s one of a long line of unbelievable things that has happened to me since I first came upon Evie. With her soft, baby voice, and big baby eyes set in a face of cute chubby, baby cheeks, she told me I would have to make a decision one day; a decision which would change reality as I knew it. I thought she was bonkers. I couldn’t even believe such words had come out of the mouth of a child who should barely be able to say “mama”. Her words creeped me out, which made sense because Evie was one creepy non-baby.

  Chapter 1

  On the day of the county fair, I woke to a strong feeling of impending doom. I had no idea why I felt as if the world were about to end, but the feeling gnawed at my gut the entire morning.

  I rose and dressed as usual. Some light cleaning took up about an hour of my morning. I fed my cats, then ate a light breakfast of toast and cocoa. My arthritis was acting up in my hands causing a little swelling and a whole lot of pain when trying to grasp my favorite Garfield mug. I knew I needed some Tylenol, but felt too lazy to get up and get some. The phone rang.

  “Hello” My voice sounded grumpy. Probably the pain in my hands talking.

  “Lace, it’s me” said my best friend Terry.

  “Ter, I know your voice, plus, I have caller I.D., dude.” I tried to laugh past the pain.


  “Don’t be a smartass, Lace. Say, you want me to pick you up or are you gonna pick me up for the fair?”

  “You pick me up. My hands are acting up. I’m afraid gripping the steering wheel might be a bit much for me today.” I grimaced.

  “I heard that frown! You do sound a little shitty. You sure you’re up to going?” Terry always knew what to say, and always knew when I was feeling down. His gay sensitivities were spot on. I loved him.

  “Yea, wouldn’t miss it. I need to get out. Maybe it will help, you know?”

  “Well take some pain killers before we go. I don’t want you ruining it for me by bitching and moaning the whole time” he laughed.

  “Alright. I’ll take something.”

  “See you in about thirty minutes, then.” Terry hung up. I put the phone back in its cradle. Across the room, a bottle of Tylenol stared at me. I stared back, praying that I hadn’t put the lid completely on after the last time I’d opened it. With my hands hurting like they were today, getting that lid off from a closed position would be a real pain in my…well, my hands. I sighed, the walked across the room and grabbed the bottle. Thankfully, the lid was loose. Swallowing down three extra strength pills in one gulp of water, I picked up my purse, headed out onto my nice, old-fashioned porch, and waited for Terry. Something bad was in the air. The more I breathed it in, the worse I felt in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t a bad smell, or toxic fumes. It was just stifling, like a portent of something life changing; the calm before the storm, you know?

  I didn’t like it. Five people had gone missing in the county in just the past four months. Jess Amos, Jack Robbins, Irma Jackson, and Les Winston. All of them were last seen in the park where today’s county fair was being held. No one knew what happened to them. Not a single clue could be found to their whereabouts. Our local Sheriff, Hammond Baker, had interviewed everyone from the fire chief to the school janitor, and not one person seemed to know anything. People were getting mighty scared.