The Harvest Page 3

Months turned into a year and Austin kept his secret friend and the things she showed him to himself. He never questioned the abnormality of her being there. For in his child’s mind she was his friend, his only friend, and in his world that was gold.

  One night the old man went out drinking and left Austin behind, locked in his room for some imagined infraction of Reynolds’ house rules. While stumbling home, he’d slipped and fell, knocking his head on the ice.

  The next morning the sheriff came to the house with the news. Austin remained silent while Sheriff Riggs told him the details of his father’s death and how they found him only two blocks from the house. That the sheriff felt it appropriate to discuss this with a child didn’t occur to Austin until he was older. It was as if Riggs blamed him for not being there, because despite being a despicable father, the old man was popular amongst the degenerates, which included the sheriff.

  After his father’s death he’d refused to acknowledge Eve, thinking she’d known his father was going to die, and should have warned him. Soon afterwards she’d disappeared from Deadbear. A year went by and Austin, having moved to Florida to live with his Aunt and Uncle, gave up on ever seeing her again.

  On his eighteenth birthday she’d returned, and he’d felt an unexplainable relief, even joy, over her coming back into his life. But he’d sensed she was different, more reclusive as if she didn’t want to be with him.

  That wasn’t the only change; the images she revealed took on a dark sinister tone. Death became the norm. Airplane crashes, mass shootings, random explosions killing hundreds, all things that came true within minutes, sometimes seconds, after seeing them. He’d scour the news for validation, growing anxious if he couldn’t find proof, but never allowing himself to hope that this time the nightmare didn’t come true. They always came true.

  It was a maddening curse to see future events play out before him, as clear as watching them on a movie screen, but unable to prevent them from taking place. At times he’d felt she was punishing him and demanded that she explain. She never complied.

  Austin couldn’t stay angry at her, for fear she would leave him again. Upon entering the military, Eve surprised him by taking on the role of his guide and protector, ensuring he knew of all harm coming his way. Once again he felt close to her.

  He learned to disguise the visions, fooling his teammates into thinking they were lucky guesses. They hadn’t minded Austin’s uncanny ability to predict the future. All things considered, he’d saved their lives a few times over and they were grateful. But he knew it wasn’t him, it was Eve who’d saved them.

  With the military he felt like he belonged, like he had a family, but not until he’d met Roxi did he share for the first time about Eve. An unseen force had compelled him to tell Roxi all of his secrets. She had accepted his tale without judgment, never making him feel like he was a freak or that she feared him. He’d promised to always share, to not carry the burden alone and she’s promised to always believe in him.

  Soon after meeting Roxi, Eve’s visits became infrequent and then ceased all together, as if Roxi by loving him had granted him a normal life. The greatest gift she could have given him, second only to their unborn son. Yet despite joining the ranks of convention for the first time in his life, Austin missed Eve.

  But he’d kept his promise for two years, telling Roxi everything without fail, which turned out to be very little after Eve made herself scarce. He’d almost convinced himself this normal could go on forever when Eve reentered his life. He remembered the moment vividly. It was the moment things began to unravel, when calm turned to chaos.

  It was just after returning home from a friend’s party where they’d announced the news they were expecting. They were excited and happy. Later that night, after they’d celebrated in a more personal manner, Austin lay awake listening to his wife breathe as she slept. If asked, Austin would have said it was the happiest time of his life. He would have later added that he’d known it wouldn’t last.

  When Eve appeared, standing in his bathroom doorway, he wasn’t surprised. She’d beckoned him to come to her and he did, sliding from the bed quiet as a whisper so as not to disturb Roxi. A fierce desire to protect his wife and unborn child prodded him to handle Eve’s presence in secrecy. For despite Roxi knowing about Eve, they’d never been introduced.

  Upon entering the bathroom expecting to find her waiting, he was instead confronted by visions of the most heinous scene. The scene he was now standing in the middle of inside the hangar. The images were more graphic than any Eve had shown him in the past, so keeping it from Roxi had been a matter of protection not deceit.

  Eve continued to appear to him over the next few months, always beckoning, always leading him to this carnage, but never giving him clues to the where or when. Today he had the where and when, but not the why. And he was no closer to knowing who she was or why she’d chosen him. Austin took in a deep breath, letting it out slow. There was no point in bemoaning what ifs. Had he chosen to believe this would one day come to fruition it wouldn’t have changed the outcome.

  With a bit of prying, Austin extracted Mitch’s phone. He covered his friend’s body with his jacket and left the hangar. Outside, he waded through a foot of snow to reach his truck. A blustery wind took him by surprise, knocking him sideways. Holding on to the side mirror he couldn’t help pausing to stare. In a matter of fifty minutes the landscape has been transformed from a serene tropical paradise to winter bedlam. Large snow drifts were stacked and packed up against the planes, making the metal giants appear as small snow covered hills scattered about the runway.

  Mitch’s phone rang startling Austin back to reality. He yanked on the driver’s door which was already frozen stuck. After a few hard tugs it flew open throwing him off balance again. Heaving himself into the truck, Austin answered Mitch’s phone while starting the engine and cranking the heat on high.

  “Major Howard?” A voice shouted through the static.

  “No. Captain Reynolds. Who’s this?”

  “General Roth in Colorado Springs. Where’s the major?”

  Austin sat taller. “The major’s dead sir.”

  “Well damn it to hell.” He shouted. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with Commander Larson since dawn. We’ve been goin’ down the list and you were the first to answer. What’s your status Captain?”

  “Sir, I just left a hangar full of mutilated bodies and Daytona looks like Denver in January. That’s my status sir.”

  “What about Larson?” Roth asked as if Austin had just delivered a traffic report. “Was he in there?”

  “Not that I could see. But some of ‘em were in bad shape sir. Looked like they’d been shredded in a blender.” If Austin expected a reaction from the general he was disappointed.

  “I need you to gather all your men and…”

  “Excuse me sir, but there aren’t any men to gather. They’re all dead.” There was a long silence on the other end. “Sir, are you still there?”

  “Yeah.” He replied with less gruffness.

  “Sir, are we under attack?” Austin thought he knew the answer to this, but hoped the general would shed some light, provide a few details.

  “Nothing’s been confirmed. They...they came through and...” Static covered his voice. “All we have right now are reports of missing and dead people. No one has seen or heard a damn thing. Other than the sundogs.”

  “Sundogs sir?”

  “No nothing. I mean nothing, you know, just reflections on ice crystals around the sun. An atmospheric phenomenon. Not uncommon, except for today. Except for…”

  “My wife asked about those this morning.” Austin said out loud, but more to himself. “What do you mean except for today sir?”

  “Well for starters, they’re still there. Sittin’ above the horizon. Not goin’ up. Not goin’ down. And for enders, they’re still fucking there. Not doing a god damn thing.”

  “Some sort of aircraft maybe?”

  “Yeah…maybe that’s
how… Anyway it couldn’t be helped.” Roth replied, not making sense. “Look captain, try to find your commander and anyone else you can round up, especially woman and children. Get to a safe place where you can defend yourselves if ya have to.”

  “Yes sir.” He waited for more directions. None were given. “Is that all sir?” Austin wanted to ask why the women and children, but the general was again speaking.

  “For right now it’s all I got. Plans are being laid. The future’s in my hands. I have been chosen to…” He paused. “I’ve ordered everyone under the mountain, if you don’t hear back assume you’re on your own. You get the opportunity Captain you make your way to Cheyenne, to Section Seven.”

  “Section Seven sir?” Austin had been to Cheyenne many times, but never heard of Section Seven.

  “Classified.” The general said and then began rattling off instructions on how to find the Section, but was cut off before he could finish.

  “Sir?” Austin waited, but no response came. “Yes sir.” He automatically replied.

  The general’s name on the screen stared back at him, as if it had eyes and waited for Austin to take action. He contemplated calling his wife. However, a deeply engrained sense of duty demanded he follow orders first, but the tingle in his spine was saying to hell with orders. It screamed at him to go find his wife, find somewhere safe to hide, because some serious shit was rolling across the land. A mental tug of war ensued in Austin’s mind for the briefest moment. In the end, as always, duty was the victor.

  Shifting the truck into gear, he headed for base headquarters. Progress was a slow go as Austin maneuvered the vehicle around snow drifts. He squinted to make out the shapes in front of him, passing by one abandoned vehicle after another. They were all empty. In fact, that he could see, there were no signs of life anywhere.

  Headquarters was located in an older, but still impressive two-story Spanish style building. The entrance was flanked by flag poles waving the flags of various countries. The flag’s cloth already tattered from the barrage of snow and wind. A few clay roof tiles had blown off shattering on the street below. The burnt orange clay stood out boldly against the snow.

  Austin made his own parking space in front of the steps. He wasn’t concerned anyone would care, but wished someone would. He’d welcome the opportunity to debate with someone over his parking spot, but no one did.

  Inside the building, Austin was greeted by an overturned chair, a half eaten doughnut and spilled coffee at the reception desk. A quick departure or maybe an evacuation, were his first thoughts. Austin walked past the reception desk and down a corridor with offices on either side. The walls were splattered with blood, but unlike the hangar, there were no mutilated bodies to explain the blood.

  He entered an empty office and walked over to the desk. A full cup of coffee sat on the corner, steam rose from the dark liquid. The phone’s receiver dangled down to the floor. He absently set it back in its cradle. An open desk drawer revealed a purse. Austin dug around in the purse, pulling out a cell phone.

  Recent calls listed a call from a J.T. at 8:02 and a call to J.T. at 8:23. The current time read 9:42. Out of curiosity Austin called J.T. With the phone on speaker, he set it on the desk and continued to search for clues. After several rings J.T.’s voice mail picked up.

  A search of the remainder of the building turned up more empty desks, more purses left behind, more suit jackets hanging on back of chairs, and more cell phones with recent calls that took place between eight and eight thirty. In all cases the walls and floors were decorated with splattered blood. Austin returned to the front of the building. He fished out Mitch’s phone and called General Roth. On the other end the phone rang nonstop. No one answered. No voice mail picked up.

  With the phone held to his ear, Austin walked over to the double glass doors that led back out to where he’d parked. The outline of his truck was near impossible to make out. Deep in thought, he watched the snow fall and listened to the endless rings. A disturbing ‘what if’ brewed deep in his mind. It swirled about, but didn’t come forward. Austin wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow himself to ask that particular ‘what if’, because he knew the wrong answer might derail his commitment to doing his duty.

  A pained expression crossed his face just before a jolt to his spine knocked him to his knees. He opened his eyes to see Roxi standing naked in the snow, holding a baby, their baby. All around her the snow was dyed crimson red. Paralyzed against the glass, his eyes glued to his wife’s image. She glanced over her shoulder; a terrified expression covered her face. She clutched the baby close, shaking her head at whatever was approaching. When she turned back around she was no longer his wife, she was Eve holding the baby. Eve beckoned to him like always, her pitch black eyes boring into his soul.

  The vision wavered, snapped and was gone. Austin leaned against the window, his breath fogging the glass. He knew in that very moment that Roxi was gone, taken. The vision was all the confirmation he needed. His mind furiously calculated how much time he had left. Roxi had three weeks before her due date. He recalled the image of Roxi and the baby, his boy. He focused on his son. Judging by his size, Austin guessed he was at least a year old, maybe a year and a half.

  The snow fell fast and heavy. Austin’s truck was no longer visible. Through the torrent of snowflakes a large object plummeted from the sky, falling with a resounding thud on top of a vehicle parked on the side of the street. The vehicle’s alarm began to pulsate across the airwaves.

  3 LUKE

  Baton Rouge, Louisiana

  7:37 am

  Lucas Taylor Jr. sat at the kitchen table pounding down a breakfast fit to feed a small army. Eggs, bacon, pancakes and homemade biscuits smothered in sawmill gravy. Across from him sat Luke senior, an older, well worn version of his handsome son. He sipped hot tea, while glaring at his bowl of cereal and the carton of skim milk parked in front of him.

  “You gonna make my game next Saturday right?” Luke didn’t look up from his plate.

  “Course I am. You’re the startin’ quarterback ain’t ya?” Luke senior demanded, turning his attention and a smile on his son.

  “Yes sir.” He replied with confidence and the arrogance that most young people possessed.

  “Ya’ll are as good as ya were last year, maybe better even. You’re sure as heck gonna be playin’ for the national championship again. Ain’t nobody better than LSU last year nor this year. Not Bama. Not nobody.” He reached across the table for a piece of bacon, but his wife intercepted, handing him a plate of fresh fruit in place of hog fat.

  “Do you want to be watchin’ your son play from a hospital bed? You know what Doc Jensen said. No fat. No grease. And no beer.” Pam Taylor demanded hands on hips.

  “I might as well be good as dead now.” He threw his spoon down. “And by God woman I’m gonna have me a beer on Saturday.”

  “You go right on and have you a beer. Have twenty. But if you drop dead from a heart attack I’m gonna step right on over you and go shoppin’ with momma”. Pam snatched the bacon from his hand and threw it to the dog.

  “What? I ain’t never.” He grabbed a biscuit, shoved it in his mouth before Pam could stop him. “And you hate shoppin’ with your momma.” He grumbled through his biscuit.

  That may have been the case, but she ignored this comment and turned her attention towards her son. “Lucas honey, don’t you go runnin’ off yet. I haven’t finished foldin’ your clothes.” She walked out of the kitchen giving Luke senior one last warning glare.

  Making sure she wasn’t coming back any time soon, Luke Senior wasted no time chomping down three pieces of bacon, barely taking a moment to chew before swallowing.

  “Don’t let him eat none of that bacon.” Pam shouted from the laundry room.

  Luke senior gave the quiet sign to his son. Lucas disapproved, but held his tongue. He wished his dad would adhere to the diet. He’d already had one heart attack and looked to be on his way to a second if he didn’t shed a few pound
s.

  “Your momma worries too much. I’m as healthy as a horse.” He boasted, patting his large, but solid belly with pride.

  “Doc said your cholesterol was super high. You can’t just keep foolin’ around with this stuff.”

  “Now son, ain’t nothin gonna kill your daddy. He’s too strong. Too stubborn. And he comes from a long line of…”

  “Champion stock. Ain’t no one has long livin’ genes like a Taylor.” Lucas finished for him. It was the same thing he’d said from his hospital bed while fighting for his life after his first heart attack, and the same thing he would repeat every time the subject of his health became a topic of conversation.

  “Well it’s the gosh durn truth. Anyway, enough about hogwash medical nonsense. What about you and Emma? You heard from her since she went to Hollyweird?”

  Lucas shook his head, turned away from his dad’s piercing gaze. He didn’t want to discuss Emma with his dad or anyone for that matter. She was out of his league and he never understood why she’d bothered with him when she could have any guy she wanted.

  “You called her yet?” He demanded.

  “No sir. I’ve been busy.”

  “Busy? You’re nineteen. You ain’t old enough to be busy.” He snorted at the thought. “You’re chicken shit is what you are.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “Then call her.”

  “I’m not gonna call her. Besides I have a girlfriend.”

  “Who?”

  “You don’t know her. She’s a cheerleader and…”

  “A cheerleader? What! I bet her daddy don’t own half the south and then some. I bet she ain’t smart like that Emma neither.”

  “Is that why you care so much about me callin’ Emma? Cuz her family’s got money?”

  “Didn’t say that.” He looked down hiding his red face. “It don’t hurt none though. And Emma is an only child.” He added, not too ashamed to point out the obvious.

  Pam returned in time to hear the end of his comment. “What’re you two talkin’ about?” His mom set a basket full of clean folded clothes next to Luke and eyed the bacon pate with suspicion.