The Harvest (23 page)

“Ready to play capture the flag?” Steve
asked, standing.

“Not really,” Liam replied. “Every bleeding
muscle in my body hurts.”

“Well, it’ll make you that much easier to
beat,” Jules teased, picking up her tray and taking it to the
scullery.

Shane’s stomach growled. His hunger flared at
the thought of not getting to eat until dinnertime. He already felt
dizzy because he’d burned off his breakfast. Snatching the
remainder of Laura’s sandwich from her plate before she could trash
it, he stuffed most of it in his mouth.

“I said out!” Jones glared at him.

He couldn’t swallow the mouthful fast enough
to be able to take another bite, so he slipped the remainder of the
sandwich behind his back and headed for the door, acting like he
didn’t notice the captain staring at him threateningly the entire
way.

Walking out alongside Shane, Liam grumbled
about Jones’ yelling. Fortunately, other than Laura, who had looked
stunned by his sudden voraciousness, no one seemed to have noticed
Shane’s moment of weakness. He glanced at the little kids’ tables,
hoping he hadn’t frightened them. Their usual roar of laughter and
conversation carried across the room.

The teenagers crowded out of the cafeteria,
back into the blazing sun. He stuffed the rest of the sandwich into
his mouth, chewing and swallowing as fast as he could. Whether or
not he’d end up injured like the day before, it was a relief to
think he’d soon be racing up the side of the mountain. For at least
a little while, his mind wouldn’t be able to focus on anything
besides not getting shot and capturing the flag. He just hoped he
wouldn’t pass out from not eating enough.

“Gather around,” Jones shouted. “Today, the
game is going to be a bit different. First off, there will be no
guns. In the event that you lose your weapon during the mission,
this will be good practice. Secondly, there are no teams. It’s each
person for themselves, and the one to retrieve the flag and bring
it to me doesn’t have to run at all tomorrow.”

A wave of conversation washed through the
group.

“Quiet,” Jones ordered. “The purpose of this
task is to prepare you in case the rest of your team is eliminated
and you have to complete the mission on your own. So take this
seriously.”

Shane looked at Kelly, Steve, and the rest of
his team, not wanting to compete against them.

“I’ll warn you now, don’t hold back on this
competition, or I’ll make you run double,” Jones growled. “Now go!”
He pointed up the mountain.

Everyone looked stunned for an instant.
Shane’s game brain took over, and he darted into the undergrowth,
tearing through it into the forest. In a wild stampede, everyone
else followed.

The serenity of the woods was disrupted by
the shouts of kids and the crunch of leaves under their feet. He
didn’t dare look over his shoulder, knowing the herd was on his
heels and they’d trample him if he lost his footing. Judging by how
long it took him to get to the top yesterday, he reckoned it was
about a mile climb.

Within minutes, the noise behind him
diminished. He could hear kids huffing for air, but it sounded like
some of them were dropping off, exhaustion taking its toll. Shane’s
legs were on fire. His lungs felt like they were bleeding, and he
was dizzy from not eating enough lunch, but he refused to be
beaten. Using every ounce of his strength, he pumped his legs up
and down, all the while trying to watch where his feet landed.

No one passed him before the light showed
through the tree trunks ahead, and he knew he was near the top.
Then he could see the little red flag. Digging deep for an extra
jolt of energy, Shane gave a burst of speed. His foot found a slick
root hiding under the leaf litter, and his leg shot out to the
side. He went down hard, and several competitors barreled past
him.

Cursing and bruised, he scrambled to his feet
in time to see Steve knock three others out of the way and grab the
flag. The big linebacker gave a victorious shout, pivoted, and
lunged back down the mountain. There was only one way to get the
flag out of his friend’s clenched fist. When Steve passed, Shane
dove at him, slamming him into a tree.

“Not today, brother,” Steve growled, twisting
his body and tossing Shane stumbling headlong down the hill.

Steve charged onward, only a handful of kids
on his heels. He knew a bunch of them must be waiting to ambush
whoever came down the mountain with the flag. But once the
linebacker was on the move, he was like a force of nature—no one
could stop him. Refusing to give up, Shane popped to his feet and
chased him. Petrov dove out from between two trees and wrapped his
arms around Steve. Using a tactic they learned in football, he spun
completely around, throwing the Russian off. Then two of the Finns
dove at his legs, and the surprisingly nimble boy leapt over them.
Shane was almost close enough to try a tackle when they made it to
the bottom. Steve burst through the briars and slid to a stop.

“That’s right, people,” he shouted, prancing
around the gravelly area between the buildings and the forest like
it was the end zone and the flag was a ball. “This is my flag,” he
sang triumphantly. “Mine!”

Gasping for air, Shane couldn’t help but
laugh at his friend’s victory dance. He would’ve loved to capture
the flag two days in a row, but he was happy to see a member of his
team had gotten it anyway. The rest of the kids trickled out of the
forest, mixed looks of defeat and relief that the run was over on
their tired faces.

Jones didn’t give them long to rest, ordering
them out onto the tarmac to run laps. Shane’s stomach growled
again, and hunger pangs tormented him. Fighting bouts of dizziness,
he ran at a slower pace and was tortured by fantasies of dinner the
rest of the afternoon.

The
routine was constantly being rearranged and the training seemed to
get harder as the week progressed. Jones didn’t allow them to sleep
more than a few hours a day. On the fourth day of training, he told
them to nap in the afternoon and kept them up all night, pushing
their bodies to the brink while constantly stuffing their minds
with new information.

Kelly didn’t join Shane in his rack again the
rest of the week, and he wouldn’t have noticed if she did. Sleep
deprivation and physical exhaustion cured the insomnia of those
first nights, and when he was lucky enough to put his head to the
pillow, he zonked out within seconds and saw her and the others do
the same.

“Friday is fish and chips day,” Rebecca said,
smiling at him as she piled fries onto his tray. She acted more
cheerful than she had earlier in the week. Dr. Blain’s counseling
sessions and her responsibilities with the children and in the
cafeteria seemed to be helping to get her over the trauma she’d so
recently endured.

“It’s Friday?” In his delirium, he’d lost
track of time.

“Yes, silly,” Rebecca replied, laughing.

She must’ve thought he was joking. He smiled
at her, looking forward to sitting down for a minute while he ate.
His legs felt like jelly. They must’ve run over fifty miles during
the week, on top of climbing the mountain to capture the stupid
flag every day.

“Let’s eat with the little ones,” Shane said
wearily, stepping off the end of the line. Kelly had hinted she
wanted him to sit with them again, and after learning how much time
Dr. Blain was spending with the kids, counseling them like she was
Rebecca and the others, he decided it was critical he stay involved
and make sure she wasn’t brainwashing anybody.

“Are you sure?” Kelly asked, appearing
pleased.

“Yeah,” he replied, trying to sound as
confident as he could.

He had an ulterior motive. She sat with her
sister at every meal, and he was sick of wasting that time eating
with the others, looking across the cafeteria at her. If he wanted
more of Kelly, he was going to have to man up and be the big
brother the little ones needed.

It made him ill that he felt he was
ultimately responsible for them, and he was still trying to come to
terms with the task. Kelly seemed to embrace her role as a guardian
of the children, Nat being her primary motivation.

Following her across the cafeteria, balancing
his tray in one hand and holding a bottle of water in the other, he
thought about the bigger reasons he should eat with the kids. They
needed adults, people who’d take a parental role. It wasn’t right
for them to get used to looking to the aliens to fill that void,
and Dr. Blain seemed all too eager to step in. For now, these
rebels were allies. But when this war ended, they couldn’t allow
them to take over.

It wasn’t that he wanted to be in charge, but
he figured there were enough smart and resourceful teenagers left
to piece things back together once the threat was dealt with. Earth
belonged to humans, and it’d be wrong to give it up without a
fight.

He did feel a little guilty for not
completely trusting the rebels. They’d done so much for him and his
people, and they seemed intent upon preventing the Anunnaki from
enslaving the humans. However, wanting to be a good leader, he was
determined to never forget that it was his duty to be vigilant and
make sure no one was taking advantage of them.

Nat beamed when she saw him coming, and he
felt bad for not eating with her earlier in the week.

“How are you, my lady?” he asked, bowing to
her.

“They’re making us do homework,” Nat
answered, sounding very disgruntled.

Shane and Kelly sat down, squeezing in on
either side of her. Her complaint was refreshingly petty compared
to the things troubling him.

“Well, that’s a good thing, right?”

“No way,” she replied, crinkling her little
nose. Her big, blue eyes looked up at him like he was nuts. “How
come you guys don’t have to go to school?”

“Oh, we’re going to school,” Kelly replied,
sighing. “I assure you of that.”

“Why can’t we go home?” Nat crossed her
little arms over her chest and stared at him.

“Nat, we talked about that,” Kelly gently
scolded.

Some of the other kids grew quiet and looked
at her with respect and affection in their eyes. Kelly smiled at
them in a maternal way that made him ache, bringing to mind a
memory of his mother.

He guessed Nat wasn’t satisfied with what her
big sister had told her. Now she was querying him to see if she’d
get a different response, attributing to him some authority or
power greater than that of her sister.

“I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

“Yeah, but this is like summer camp,” Shane
said clumsily, nervous under her scrutiny.

“No, it’s not,” she objected, glaring at him.
“They wouldn’t make me do homework in summer camp.”

Shane looked over her head at Kelly, unsure
of what to say.

“We can’t go home just yet,” Kelly said to
her sister, her voice cracking. “But we’ll be able to soon enough.
For now, just try to have fun.”

Nat stuck her lower lip out, looking like she
might throw a tantrum. Worried that maybe his presence was
upsetting her, Shane stood to go put his tray away.

“No,” Nat pleaded. “Take me home.” She slid
off her stool and wrapped herself around his arm.

She wasn’t crying, just sincerely asking him
to return her life to normal. He didn’t know what to say. Several
of the other children seated nearby stopped eating, looking at him
with the same pleading expression Nat had. Clearly, they thought he
had the power to fix everything.

“Look, kids…” He paused, searching for
something an adult would say. He cleared his throat and glanced at
Kelly. She seemed at a loss for words too. They couldn’t lie to
these kids forever. Their eyes seemed to beg for directness. Most
of them already knew their parents were dead, though he’d heard
some speak like they were still alive and they’d soon be reunited
with them. “Y’all know there are bad guys out there that want to
hurt us, right?”

“Sammy says aliens killed our parents,” Nat
answered abruptly, pointing at a chubby kid with glasses. The boy
looked at Shane with an expression that said,
Yep, that was
me
. There was a strong glimmer of intelligence in his brown
eyes.

“Sammy is right,” Shane said softly.

Kelly glared at him, obviously not happy
about him being so forward with the children.

“It’s a lot to handle for little guys,” he
continued, knowing he was out on a limb with them. “But we need you
all to be tough now and do what you’re told. You need to go to the
school they’ve set up for you.”

He glanced around the table. More of the
children were quiet now, all looking at him like they’d been
waiting for this talk. Like the teenagers, these kids had been
forced to act more mature than they were. It was hard to look at
them, knowing they’d been robbed of a chance at a normal childhood.
It made the memories of his time as a kid seem precious. He used to
feel sorry for himself for losing his mother, but he’d gotten to
have her for far longer than these children did theirs.