The Harvest (2 page)

Taking a shallow breath, he checked the
upheaval of emotion. Self-contempt followed in its wake. There was
something suspicious about her showing up out of the blue like
this. Why was he willing to trust this stranger—just because she
was older?

After surviving the worst hell imaginable and
keeping so many kids alive since the world essentially came to an
end, Shane refused to be duped by the smooth-talking government
type. His foot brushed the stalk of the M-16 protruding from under
the couch. He glanced at it, noticing a dime-sized spot of blood
seeping through the gauze covering the left side of his chest and
shoulder. His gaze returned to the woman. He crossed his arms and
ignored the pain, not allowing the injuries to make him look
weak.

Her smile promised she had no ill intention,
and her expression of concern seemed genuine, urging the scared
little kid inside Shane to the surface. He gritted his teeth and
kept his expression firm.

“You can bring the gun if you want, but we do
have to get going.” Her brow furrowed with solemnity. “There are a
lot of kids to rescue and too few of us left to do it. Many of them
are too young to care for themselves—infants and toddlers abandoned
in their homes.”

Shane studied her honey-brown eyes. She
could’ve been trained to lie for all he knew, but his instincts
told him she had good intentions. What did she have to gain by
taking them in anyway?

An irregular thumping of footsteps carried
through the quiet house.

“Did you see the helicopters out…?” Tracy
limped through a door on the left. The pistol in her hand started
to rise, its barrel coming to bear on the stranger.

“It’s okay, Tracy,” Shane said, not taking
his steely gaze off the woman. “We’re going with them.”

The gun stopped. Tracy studied the woman, and
her face twitched like she too experienced conflicted feelings
about seeing an adult alive. Before the limbic manipulator killed
her family, she had been bent on following in her stepdad’s
footsteps and joining the military. He’d seen the pain in her eyes
after they’d heard the message from Dr. Gunderson, telling them the
government was responsible for all of those deaths. Those same
emotions showed in her face now, along with a hint of relief that
Shane expected only her closest friends could pick up on. Funny how
much he’d learned about her in such a short time. She shifted her
gaze, fixing questioning eyes on him.

Last night’s shower had done her wonders.
He’d forgotten what she looked like when her face wasn’t covered
with dirt and blood. She must’ve found some clippers in the house
too; her crew cut was freshly trimmed. Still, her eyes were
bloodshot and had purple bags beneath them.

He remembered waking up during the night to
go to the bathroom. When he’d walked down the hall, he heard a lot
of the kids crying. Shane was still a little numb. He hadn’t come
to terms with all the deaths, but he wasn’t immune to the dark
cloud of grief hanging heavy over the home.

Tracy leaned over slightly, the gunshot to
her leg and stab wound on her back obviously causing her
discomfort. He remembered pointing his M-16 at her in the
underground battery compartment just before they shut down the
limbic manipulator weapon, how he was so certain killing her was
the right thing to do in that moment. It wasn’t his fault—the
weapon had scrambled his brain. But that fact didn’t ease the
guilt.

Jules stepped through the door behind Tracy,
a shotgun held ready and the same fresh crew cut replacing her
brown mullet. She was a couple of inches taller and leaner, able to
eye the woman over the top of Tracy’s head, and Tracy was almost as
tall as Shane. He hadn’t talked to Jules much in the short time
they’d been acquainted, but he knew she was as tough as Tracy.
Jules fought like a cornered mountain lion against Shamus and his
gang of thugs in Atlanta. Her eyes had no redness in them. Maybe
she was numb too. Her eyebrows rose upon seeing the woman, but her
expression remained stoic.

Tracy’s eyes narrowed, and she lowered the
pistol. This blonde, fair-skinned JROTC commander was a badass for
sure. Shane was glad they were on his team, especially now in his
weakened condition. If he gave the order, these girls would rip the
woman to shreds in an instant.

“Get everyone up and outside,” he said, and
then made a move toward the door.

The woman smiled at the girls and turned
around, leading the way onto the porch. Tracy’s and Jules’ eyes
followed her, a look of relief on their faces when they turned to
execute Shane’s order. They might be free of the burden of
responsibility for everyone’s protection soon, but Shane was
determined to make sure they were truly safe before he’d relax.

Turning her back on him showed an awful lot
of trust—he wouldn’t afford the woman the same leap of faith until
he knew more. So many of the kids he and his friends encountered
over the last two days would stick a knife in her without a second
thought. What made her think he wouldn’t?

Six dark green military helicopters waited in
the field a hundred yards away, their rotors lazily spinning to a
stop. A woman wearing the exact same black pantsuit and a man
wearing matching garb stood by the open door at the side of each
aircraft. They wore stern expressions, not smiling and
compassionate like the woman. He was immediately struck by how
similar they all looked, at least from a distance.

His escort stopped and turned to Shane, her
hand extending.

“I’m Lilith, by the way. But my friends call
me Lily. What’s your name?”

Lilith was unique, but it seemed too simple a
title for her. He expected her to introduce herself as Agent
So-and-so, or at least Ms. Someone Important. Irradiated by the
soft morning light, her tanned skin was unblemished—not a single
freckle marked her face. Her features were perfect—high cheekbones,
long, curved eyelashes, plump, red lips, and yet she didn’t appear
to have on any makeup. She was too… too symmetrical or something.
Shane had trouble putting his finger on it. Her smile almost seemed
to glow, chiseling away his doubts about her sincerity.

But he still had trouble coming to terms with
the idea that these adults actually came to rescue them.
Remembering his manners, he started to reach out and take her hand.
Pain flashed through his shoulder, the laceration stretched by
movement.

“Sorry,” the woman said, a frown expressing
her empathy. She extended her other hand.

He took it with his good side, wondering if
she’d prompted him to shake with his injured arm just to remind him
how vulnerable he was.

“Shane.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Shane.”

“Same,” he said automatically, hoping it
would indeed be a pleasure, that her intentions weren’t
malicious.

Her palm was dry and cool, reaffirming her
honesty. Cold hands, warm heart—at least, that was what Granny used
to say. He wished she were here now. She could read a person’s
character from miles away.

“Where are you taking us?” He didn’t let go
of her hand, fighting the desire to give up and trust her. With his
eyes, he conveyed he wouldn’t be pushed around, wouldn’t allow her
to bring his people to harm.

“To a hidden base north of here.”

Lily didn’t pull way, seeming content to
endure his interrogation. She kept her eyes locked onto his,
inviting him to search them for any sign of deceitfulness.

“And then what?”

“Then we can try to stop the people who
killed your parents, before they kill anyone else.”

Forcing himself to remain on guard, he
embraced skepticism. Every word coming from her mouth could be a
lie. He tried to nurture the idea that she might be weaving an
elaborate snare.

“I thought the government was responsible for
killing our parents,” he replied, trying to sound the way Principal
Collins had last year. She’d found out it was the footballers who’d
turned her car sideways in its parking space—Steve and Aaron’s
brilliant idea—and was looking for necks to stretch.

The sleep had done Shane good, but seeing his
aunt and father killed, seeing the rest of the adults slaughtered,
fighting off the criminals at the gym, and then battling his way
downtown, only to have the death match of the century with Steve,
weighed heavily on him. The exhaustion of forty-eight hours of the
worst experiences imaginable made his body and mind seem filled
with lead, though the pain of his injuries gave him a degree of
clarity. Hoping he didn’t look half as bad as he felt, he eyed her
like he’d eye a defensive tackle that wanted to take his head off
during a game—warning he was more than she could handle.

“It wasn’t all their fault,” she said, not
appearing intimidated. “We’ll explain more once we get you to
safety and have your wounds treated.”

Lily’s focus shifted to the old,
plantation-style mansion behind him. He followed her gaze, not
letting go of her hand although it was becoming awkward.

Tracy, Kelly, Steve, and Laura stepped out of
the house, a mob of younger kids in tow. All eyes darted between
Shane, Lily, and the choppers. Their faces were slack with shock,
like they were having trouble comprehending that some adults were
actually here. Several of the girls who’d been assaulted in the gym
and most of the younger children’s chins wrinkled, and tears began
to flow.

Once in the yard, James and Sara, the two
little kids he rescued behind the grocery store in Leeville, broke
away from the group and ran toward Shane and Lily. Nat and several
other children followed. Kelly attempted to grab her sister. After
missing, she glanced at Shane with a desperate look on her face.
There was nothing he could do. The children bypassed Shane and
gathered around Lily, pressing between them such that it forced him
to relinquish her hand. They hugged her and wept, looking up at her
with relief in their wet eyes.

“It’s okay, children,” Lily said with a
nurturing tone. “It’s all over now.”

Emotion and concern swelled in him. He was
the one who’d kept them safe while these adults hid from the
weapon’s effect. He and his friends had risked their lives, and
Matt and Aaron had given theirs, to keep these kids alive. This
woman showed up, and they acted like their parents had returned. He
glanced back at his friends, trying to decide if he should have
them step forward and separate the children from Lily. He hadn’t
determined it was safe to trust her yet. Most of the younger kids
still stood behind Kelly and the others with conflicted expressions
on their little faces.

A glance at his friends told him he had to
place his faith in this woman. They were in desperate need of
medical care. Steve looked bad, his face swollen from the brawl
with Shane. He imagined he must look about as good. Although
Tracy’s hidden injuries probably posed a greater risk of infection,
Laura looked the worst. Her left eye had a makeshift patch over it,
and gauze was wrapped around her head to cover scratches caused by
the crows.

Maurice and what was left of his gang, forty
or so teenagers and only a few youngsters, had spilled out after
the original group from Leeville. The city kids appeared more
skeptical than those from his hometown. They spread out across the
front yard, most of the older kids clinging to their guns. Their
eyes shifted nervously from the helicopter and the black-suited
adults to Shane. When they looked at him, they seemed to beg for
him to tell them it was okay to surrender, that these adults were
indeed the good guys. Even in the presence of these authoritative
people, his friends and the other kids looked to him as their
leader. Before, he had resented his role. Now, however reluctant,
he’d come to accept it and was determined to keep them safe.

The peaceful and calm morning fueled the
little flame of hope their rescuers inspired in him. The sky took
on a light yellow color, the sun just peeking over the trees and
chasing away the cool night air. When the ominous, green clouds had
dominated the heavens over the last couple of days, he feared he’d
never see a normal sunrise again. Birds sang a welcome to the new
day, innocent and beautiful. Those feathered musicians were ripping
the eyeballs out of adults not so many hours ago. A cow mooed from
the field where the now-silent helicopters waited, and he wondered
if its hoofs were stained with the farmer’s blood.

From the other side of the house, Shane heard
a loudspeaker calling for kids to come out of their hiding places.
He glanced at the road and saw two green military buses roll slowly
by. Suddenly, his army of teenagers seemed a lot smaller.

“They’re with us,” Lilly explained, her smile
exuding compassion. “Here to help.”

He gave her one more drilling inspection over
the heads of the kids that still surrounded her. Nat and James
clung to her hands and looked happier than they had since he’d
rescued them, like somehow this woman could reunite them with their
parents. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he worried he
might collapse if he stood much longer. He maintained a stiff
posture in spite of it and took a deep breath, trying to stay
strong as he turned to address his people.

“If y’all are okay with it, we’re gonna go
with these people,” Shane announced, his voice not coming out as
loud as he intended. “They’re taking us to a military base where
we’ll be safe.”