The Harvest Page 2

  “How do ya know that?”

  “Captain told me.”

  “How does he know?”

  “I don’t know how. He just knows shit…stuff.” Luke shrugged. “Best to do as he says.”

  2 AUSTIN

  Six Months Earlier

  Daytona, Florida

  6:37 am

  With the covers pulled up to his chin, Austin lay staring at the ceiling, his gaze transfixed on something other than the spinning fan blades, on something not of this world.

  A smartphone blared to life on the nightstand next to the bed and a heavy metal band belted out a tune loud enough to annoy a rooster. Austin’s focus returned to his current surroundings and he snatched the phone off the stand. The band noise was muffled and then silenced under the covers. He set the phone back on the nightstand, and went back to staring at the ceiling. The crease above his brow gave the only indication what he saw might not be pleasant in nature.

  A peaceful stillness settled over the room. The moment right before the first bird chirped and another followed, somehow sending out the signal that dawn has indeed arrived and sunrise was not far behind. The smartphone came alive again, and rap lyrics took over the airwaves. Austin threw back the covers, but for only a second before snatching them back to his chin.

  “Damn it’s cold in here.” He commented.

  The lump next to him moved. “Hm? What you say?” A woman’s muffled voice responded from under the blankets.

  “I said it’s freezing in here. Aren’t you cold?” He laid his hand on the lump that was his wife, Roxanne.

  Hazel eyes and a pixie nose peaked out at Austin. “Turn up the heat.” She mumbled through the covers.

  “Dummy. Why didn’t I think of that?” He patted her in the hip area and jumped out of the bed.

  Austin trotted across the room to the thermostat. Woven cotton briefs were no match for the chill that morning. Shifting from one foot to the other to stay warm, he fiddled with the thermostat settings and then dashed back to the bed.

  “How cold is it?” Roxanne asked, more alert now.

  “Sixty two.” He snuggled closer to her.

  “In the house. How cold in the house?” She pushed wisps of blonde hair away from her eyes.

  “That’s in the house. It’s only forty outside.”

  Roxanne pulled the covers down to her chin. “Are we still in Daytona? Or did you move me while I was sleeping?”

  “Funny girl.” He tousled her hair.

  “Thought the weather man promised a balmy week?”

  “Meteorologists can’t predict shit. It’s the only profession you can always be wrong, never get fired, and millions of people still hang on your every word.”

  “Don’t be jealous dear. They don’t get to play with all the cool military toys like you do.” She reached out, rubbed the five o’clock shadow that covered his head.

  Austin smirked, nodding in agreement. She was right. As a member of an elite group of Marines he was afforded every opportunity to try out all the top secret toys the military wasn’t creating. And he absolutely loved it. Loved everything about his job. In fact the only thing he loved as much, and sometimes more, was Roxanne. Something she was well aware of before she married him and, for the most part, didn’t allow his love affair with his job to bother her. Another reason he was madly in love with her.

  “What time are you leaving?” Her voice held the slightest quiver that she concealed with a smile.

  “I don’t have to go Roxi.” He replied softly. “I already spoke to Larson, he’s cool about it. He understands.”

  “Shut up already. You’d go nuts stayin’ with me. Besides, you’ll be back in time. I know it.” She moved into his arms, not wanting to see the relief in his eyes.

  “I am, by far, the luckiest man alive.” He replied, thanking her with a kiss.

  After a long moment of procrastination, Austin reluctantly exited the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He cranked the shower temp all the way in the red. While waiting on the water to heat up, he flexed in front of the mirror, admiring his chiseled body, admiring the scar running down his side. If someone were watching they’d think him vain. And they’d be wrong.

  The truth behind his admiration was simple. His body was not mere flesh and bone, but a valuable asset, a military machine, and thus something to be respected. Right up there with all those cool toys Roxanne reminded him about. Steam clouded the mirror and Austin’s image. He undressed and disappeared into the shower. Soon an out of tune version of Roxanne by The Police mingled with gurgling water.

  A couple of versus in Roxanne opened the bathroom door. Steam poured out like thick fog. She waved it away from her face. Her other hand held a phone that rested on her very pregnant stomach. Her brow was furrowed and an expression of concern clouded her face.

  “Austin.”

  He continued singing.

  “Austin!” She flicked the lights off and on.

  The singing cut off mid note. Austin’s head popped out. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s Mitch.” She waved the phone at him. “Says it’s urgent.”

  Austin frowned. “Tell him I’ll call him back.”

  “Maybe you should take it. He sounds kinda nervous or scared.” Roxanne tried to feel calm, but something in Mitch’s tone had her feeling nervous and scared.

  “Mitch don’t do nervous, nor scared.” Austin remarked, but Roxanne wasn’t convinced. “All right. All right. I’m coming.” He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist before taking the phone from his wife. His demeanor belied the uptick in his heart rate, the adrenaline that was starting to work its way through his veins.

  “Mitch. Dude what’s so…”

  “You gotta get yer ass outta there right now! We got something like you ain’t never seen man!” Mitch shouted through the phone, sounding out of breath.

  “Slow down man. What’s goin’ on?”

  The sound of rapid gun fire blasted through the phone’s speaker. “Shit! You can’t kill em!” Mitch’s voice yelled through the phone.

  “Can’t kill what? Mitch what is it?” Austin’s casual stance shifted to a more rigid posture. “Mitch.”

  Mitch didn’t answer. Yelling and rapid gun fire could be heard. “Mitch! Mitch! Damn it man answer me!”

  “They’re fucking everywhere.” Mitch yelled loud enough that Roxanne heard him.

  “What is? What the hell’s happenin’ down there?” Austin gripped the phone tighter.

  “Get the fuck out Austin. Get out of the city!” He yelled. “Shit! Die you mother fuckers!” More gun fire was heard, a gurgling choking sound and then silence.

  “Mitch? Mitch!”

  Austin stood statuesque with the phone to his ear waiting for his friend to answer. He didn’t notice when his towel slipped to the floor. Nor did he pay attention to his wife, who through great efforts squatted down, picked it up and wrapped it back around him. He was intent on what was happening on the other end of the phone.

  “Honey what is it?” She touched his arm.

  He looked down at her, turned the phone speaker outward. Roxanne’s eyes widened when she heard the garbled noises emitted from the phone, noises that weren’t human. Austin snapped out of his daze, the adrenaline taking over. He dialed one number after another, but no one answered. He handed the phone to Roxanne, and strode with purpose back into the bedroom.

  “Austin?” She reached after him, but he was walking too fast.

  Austin disappeared into the closet, returning with a set of fatigues in his hand. He tossed these on the bed, disappeared back into the closet. A pair of boots flew out. Roxanne stepped out of the way in time to avoid a collision. Out of habit, her hands went to her stomach. She watched the closet doorway, listening as Austin rummaged through drawers and boxes.

  He emerged carrying his ka-bar, standard issue combat knife. This was thrown on the bed next to his fatigues; the blade gleamed wicked in the light. He glanced at Roxanne and began dre
ssing without saying a word.

  “Austin you’re scaring me.”

  He didn’t look at her. “I want you to pack some things. Enough for five or six days.” He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled on his boots. “Call Vicky. Tell her to come get you. I want you to stay with her until I call you.”

  “Your cousin Vicky? But why?” She waddled over to him. “Austin what is it?”

  He finished tying his boots, stood up. He took her hand, his expression softened. “If Mitch says to get out of town he has good reason. Whatever’s goin on, I don’t want you two anywhere near it.” He patted her stomach.

  “I only have three weeks left.” She didn’t want to sound clingy, but those noises, they were still in her head and ‘not human’ kept running through her mind.

  “I’m just goin’ down there to check it out.” He kissed her. “I’ll be back tonight. Tomorrow at the latest. I promise.”

  Roxanne paused. She didn’t want to ask, but had to. “Did you see her again?”

  Austin stared at her for a long second, his expression unreadable, and then shook his head. “Call Vicky right now. Ok?”

  “Ok.” She didn’t press for answers.

  Austin turned to leave. Roxanne held on to his arm for a second before letting him go. She watched him walk out the door, hoping he’d stop, but he left without looking back. She stood there for several minutes, her eyes anxious, glued to the open doorway. As if she could will him to change his mind, to not investigate those awful sounds.

  The phone rang, startling Roxanne from her trance. “Austin? What’s wrong?”

  “Did you call Vicky?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Hang up and call her. Then call me back. Right now Roxi.”

  “Ok. Ok. I’m calling her.”

  She called Vicky and tried to explain, but didn’t know what her situation was to even begin to put words to it. Vicky didn’t need verification. If Austin wanted Roxanne out of the city, she wasn’t going to argue with him. Roxanne called Austin back.

  “She’ll be here in an hour.”

  “As soon as she gets there you leave. No chit chat. No cup of coffee. No look at the nursery. Just get to the farm. Got it?”

  “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” She was a bit irritated at being scared and more so because she didn’t know why she was scared. “You don’t even know what happened yet?”

  “Look out the window.” He directed.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just do what I asked. Please.” He spoke in an easy tone, one of controlled patience.

  Roxanne waddled over to the window and peeked through the blinds. Her mouth dropped open. She leaned closer to the window, reaching over to raise the blinds up past her head. She looked out over the Atlantic Ocean, towards the horizon where three suns sat above the water. Roxanne brought the phone to her ear. “Why are there three suns?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Her eyes were drawn from the triple suns to a white flake floating down from the sky. She watched, mesmerized by the snowflake. Soon others followed. A few flakes landed on the glass and turned to ice.

  “Is it snowing?”

  “I think so.”

  “What does that mean? I mean…it shouldn’t be snowing this far south should it?” Some of the flakes turned to ice pellets. They clinked against the window like tiny pebbles.

  “Just stay in the house until Vicky gets there. And then you go straight to the farm.”

  “I will. We will.” Her voice was quiet.

  “Gotta go Roxi. Call me when you get there.”

  “Austin, come back.” She choked on her fear. “Don’t go down there.”

  There was a long pause. “I have to honey.” He replied. “I love you. I love you both.” And with a click he was gone.

  Roxanne looked around their room, lost. The unseen wheels of cause and effect had been put into motion, she thought, and didn’t wonder why she would think such a thing. Ideas, foreign and often alien, had always come to her from out of nowhere, illogical in the sense they contained no connection or familiarity to anything in her life. Out of practiced she ignored this one as well.

  The plinking from the ice pellets that continued to hit the window was the sole sound in the room when an hour later Roxanne, no longer looking dazed, left their bedroom for the last time.

  ***

  The military hangar sat on the edge of a long runway. Out on the tarmac, monstrous whale like cargo planes were already covered in a layer of snow. Austin jumped out of his truck, looked out towards the runway and wondered what the hell, before turning his attention back to the hangar.

  The massive hangar doors stood about two feet apart. Austin pulled his handgun from its holster, and approached the door with caution. His foot crunched down on something underneath the layer of snow covering the ground. Crouching down, his eyes glued to the gap in doorway, he cleared away the snow revealing several bullets. The tips were smashed in, but the rest of the shell remained intact. He placed a few in his pocket.

  Easing his way up to the door, Austin pressed his body close to the edge of the opening and took a quick peek inside. He leaned back, took a few quick breaths and entered the hangar, his weapon leading the way. After a quick sweep, he lowered his gun.

  The macabre sight in front of him made his jaw tighten. It was as bad as she’d shown him it would be, and seeing it for real didn’t diminish the horror. His eyes scanned the mutilated bodies of the soldiers scattered about the hangar. Their condition made counting near impossible. Limbs had been torn and tossed about. Headless torsos lay in dried blood. A group of soldiers lay slumped over, back to back, in a circle facing outward. Their position giving the impression they had attempted to fight the enemy as a unified force.

  The further Austin investigated, the thicker his guilt grew. Despite the graphic forewarnings, he still wasn’t prepared. He weaved through the corpses searching for Mitch. After several failed attempts he stumbled upon his friend’s body behind a group of yellow barrels. Dead eyes stared out of a bruised bloody face. Mitch’s chest was ripped open, his organs torn out. In his right hand, he clutched his phone. Austin squatted down next to his friend. “I let you down man.”

  With a pen, he moved Mitch’s shirt to the side. On the upper part of his neck were five gouges, four long, one short. Austin traced the air above the marks with the pen, committing the details to memory. Using his cell phone, he snapped a picture of the marks. Looking around for more clues, he realized little evidence of the killers was left behind.

  Roxanne by The Police played from Austin’s cell. “Has Vicky got there yet?” He forced lightness into his voice when he answered.

  “Not yet. She called. Said there’s abandoned vehicles all over the highway.” Roxanne reported without emotion. “What’s going on there?” Her voice was not anxious as he would have expected.

  “Not sure yet.” He lied. “I’m goin’ over to headquarters. I’ll call you later ok?”

  After a pause, she asked tonelessly. “Did you find what you expected?”

  The sound in her voice, as much as the question, caught him off guard, but he didn’t have time to think it through. “No. Nothing. Just…just weird is all.” He closed his eyes to the death that surrounded him. “I gotta go Roxi. Stay there. Wait for Vicky. I’ll call soon.”

  “Don’t go Austin. Just come home. We’ll go somewhere together. Back to Deadbear. We had fun there. Remember?”

  “Deadbear? What do you mean?” This Austin could not ignore, Roxi knew he would never go back to his childhood home.

  There was a long silence. “No not Deadbear. I don’t know why I said that.” She replied, confusion in her voice. “I just want you with me.”

  “I know Roxi. But I can’t…I just can’t. Ok? You understand?”

  After a long pause, Roxanne gave in. “I understand. I love you Austin.”

  “Love you both.” He hung up, put his wife’s strange comment out of his mind, and d
ialed another number. The endless ringing on the other end reinforced his theory. His postulation that the recurring nightmare wasn’t what he wanted or pretended it to be. He’d been wrong. He shook his head. Not wrong. He’d chosen to ignore her, to compartmentalize the images as a product of his disastrous childhood. A meager attempt at holding on to normal, something he’d known little about until meeting Roxi. Roxanne, he whispered. A twinge of regret pierced his heart.

  The twinge was not due to his broken promise. Not because he failed to keep his word to always share what he foresaw, good or bad. And this was bad. It was evilness beyond depravity to the point of being obscene. But it was the depths of its very depravity that were the root cause for why he hadn’t told Roxi the truth, and why he’d believed these things would ever come to pass. The twinge was the pang of reality screaming at him.

  Austin fingered the scar on top of his right hand, processing the sights surrounding him and thinking about the past. The scar, a constant reminder of his first brush with death and the first time he’d seen the spirit girl.

  He’d only been nine when he fell through the ice and declared dead for exactly seventy seven seconds. After his revival as the medics were shoving his stretcher into the back of the ambulance he’d caught his first glimpse of her.

  At first he’d thought maybe he had died and she was an illusion or a ghost. Not because she wasn’t appropriately dressed for the freezing cold and seemed not to notice or be noticed by anyone except him. It was because of her eyes. Solid black ovals that were dark as pitch, exaggerated by her translucent skin so pale she seemed to shimmer in the wind.

  In the beginning she’d kept to the shadows, never exposing herself for long and never when adults were present. If they were alone she’d venture out into the open, but always maintained a safe distance. Austin shared his clothes and she shared glimpses of the future, of things that were about to occur, other times she only watched him, and although Austin talked to her she never spoke. Later on he came to refer to her as Eve, for what reason he gave her this name he didn’t know. In his mind the name fit. Eve was never mentioned to anyone and especially not his father.