The Harvesting (15 page)

Read The Harvesting Online

Authors: Melanie Karsak

Tags: #vampires, #vampire, #zombie, #zombie action, #zombie book, #shapechanger, #faeries, #undead, #zombie apocalypse, #zombie end of world survival apocalypse, #undead book, #undead fiction, #zombie apocalypse undead, #undead romance, #zombie apocalpyse, #zombie adventure, #zombie apocalypse horror, #shapechangers, #zombie apocalypse novel, #vampires and undead, #zombie apocalypse romance, #zombie fantasy, #zombie apocalypse fantasy, #undead apocalypse, #undead adventure, #zombie apocalypse erotica, #undead horde, #vampires and shapechangers, #zombie undead paranormal dead walking dead supernatural plague horror


The stock market doesn’t
exist anymore.”


Ahh, that’s right, I
forgot,” he said with a laugh. “I also found a very unique gift.”
He pulled out his hunting knife. On the leather strap tied to the
hilt he’d strung the small pendant I’d left wrapped in the blue
napkin. “Is this the one from the Fisherman’s Wharf? The one the
sea captain statue at the entryway was wearing on his hat? You
remember, I asked the owner at the Wharf to sell it to me. That was
right after I got back from Iraq.”


How should I know? Santa
must have left it for you.”

Just then the record stopped. Jamie
paused to change records, rewinding the gramophone, and we started
to dance again. This time the music was slow. The sweet gramophone
music filled the space; I could hear everyone’s happy, excited
voices.


Why did you like that
pendant so much anyway?” I asked, taking the knife from him and
looking at the pendant.


One day, while my unit
was out patrolling, I saw this symbol carved in stone on one of the
buildings. I stopped to look at it. An old beggar was sitting
there. He asked me if I knew what the symbol was. He told me it was
called the flower of life and that it represents all life—us, the
spirit world, everything--our interconnectedness. After that, I
started seeing it everywhere. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw
it here, in Hamletville, at the Wharf. Santa was really nice to
remember I liked it.”


Well, Santa is good at
remembering important things.”

A strong wind blew, causing the back
door in the gymnasium to pop wide open. Everyone paused, and the
two men on guard checked it out.


Clear. Only the wind,”
Jensen called.

The mood returned to a happy one a
moment later. Almost everyone was dancing now, the lights in the
room casting long shadows on the walls.


I have something for you
as well. It’s a little late, but I wanted to give it to you
myself.”

Jamie handed me a small package
wrapped in a cloth. From inside I pulled out a plastic squirt gun.
It was filled with water. I was puzzled.

Jamie laughed at my expression.
“There’s holy water inside,” he explained. “I stopped by the church
and filled it.”

I laughed out loud.


I don’t know why Grandma
Petrovich wanted you to have holy water, but your grandma
understood things better than anyone I ever knew. I figured I’d
back her up on this one.”


Thank you,” I said with a
chuckle, putting my head against his chest, wrapping my arms around
him.

I felt him stiffen a little, but then
he relaxed, pulling me tight against him.

I closed my eyes and listened to the
beating of his heart. It was all I wanted to hear.

When I opened my eyes again, I thought
I saw a strange face in the crowd. Just for a moment, a thin, pale,
and angry looking male face appeared amongst us. I pulled back to
look more closely, but where I thought I had seen something, I now
saw nothing. Shadows of dancing couples moved across the walls, but
amongst the shadows I saw more figures than were actually in the
room. Frantically, I looked around at the dancing couples but saw
nothing unusual. All around me were the same faces I had seen over
the last five months. Again, I looked at the shadows on the wall.
Fast, shadowy images intermixed with those of the townspeople. I
turned and saw another face, a female, who I did not know amongst
the crowd. She was similar in appearance to the man. I strained to
get a better look, but she disappeared. I stepped back from Jamie
and pulled my gun from its holster.


What is it?” Jamie
whispered in alarm.

I looked around the room, a gun in one
hand, the other on the hilt of my sword. A second later, the wind
blew the door open again. At that same moment, the generator
failed. The lights dimmed with a fading buzz leaving only
candle-light. Cold wind gusted through the place, blowing out the
candles nearest the door. I left Jamie’s side. Grabbing a
flashlight, I stood in the doorway and flashed the light on the
parking lot outside.

Overhead, the moon was full. It cast
long shadows. The bare trees made claw-like images on the snowy
ground. I pulled my coat off the wall and went outside, Jamie
following fast behind me.

I snapped the flashlight off and
pulled out my sword. I stood still, my eyes adjusting to the
moonlight. I scanned the horizon. Nothing.


What is it?” Jamie
whispered.

I looked back. Several people stood in
the gymnasium door looking out.

I said nothing but walked to the small
slope at the side of the school. From there I could see much of the
town and the frozen lake below. Jamie walked wordlessly beside
me.

I stood on the hill overlooking the
town below and scanned the vista.

A second later, I saw
it—them--something.


There,” I whispered to
Jamie. I pointed my sword in the direction of the lake where
strange shadowy images appeared to flee across the frozen ice. “Do
you see that?” I asked him.

He was silent.

I watched the shadows retreat until I
saw nothing more.


Did you see that?” I
asked him again, thinking maybe Grandma Petrovich’s mushrooms had
made me go half-crazy.

I looked up at the still-silent Jamie.
The startled look on his face told me he had seen it
too.


Layla--” he
began.


I know.”


What was it?” he
asked.

I shook my head.


Well, what did you
see?”

Indeed, what did I see? I was not
exactly certain, but when I looked up at Jamie one answer came
clearly to mind: “Danger.”

We stood wordlessly for a long time.
Fear had frozen me in place.

Reassured by the lack of gunfire,
happy sounds resumed inside the gym. A short while later, we heard
the crowd counting down to midnight. Then there was a raucous
cheer. It was a new year. They broke into a round of Auld Lang
Syne. It shook me from the terror that had seized my
throat.

I looked up at Jamie. He had a
confused expression on his face.

I reached up and stroked his cheek. “I
love you.”

He looked as if I had startled him
from dark thoughts. He paused a moment and then leaned in and
kissed me deeply. “I love you too,” he whispered in my ear as he
crushed me against him.

Together, we turned to go back to the
gym.

Ian’s shadowed figure was in the
doorway.

Jamie paused.

Ian turned and walked back into the
building.


He’ll accept, in time,” I
said.

Jamie did not look sure.

Chapter 18

 

For the next two months I watched for
any sign of the strange shadowy figures I had seen on New Year’s
Eve. I never saw them again. I also did not see the forest lord and
lady again though I had repeatedly gone looking for
them.

Ian did not come around either. When I
saw him in town, he paid me little attention. In fact, he seemed to
avoid me. Jamie said he rarely came out unless he was on rotation.
When Ian appeared in the school gym one day in March when he knew I
would be there, I was surprised. I was even more surprised at his
appearance. He was a shadow of his former self: his eyes were
sunken, his clothes were hanging loose, his cheeks were
hollow.


Jesus Christ, Ian, when
was the last time you ate something,” I asked as I crossed the room
to join him. My stomach knotted.

A pained look crossed his face. I
realized then he was having trouble standing. “Is Mrs. Finch
here?”

I put my arm around his waist,
steadying him, and led him to Mrs. Finch’s office. “Come on, Ian,
why didn’t you say something? Just because things are complicated
doesn’t mean no one cares about you,” I scolded.

Just as we reached Mrs. Finch, the
fire alarm at the community center went off. We all stopped and
counted: 1—2—3—4—5—6.


Oh my god,” Mrs. Finch
whispered.

My heart leapt into my throat. “Stay
here,” I said as I lowered Ian into a chair. “I’ll bar the door on
my way out.”


Layla--” Ian
began.


We got it. Just stay
here, and, for the love of god, let Mrs. Finch look you over. I’ll
come back,” I said and tore down the hallway.

Frenchie and the girls stood,
flabbergasted and afraid, in the middle of the gym. “Into Mrs.
Finch’s office and stay put,” I told them but then paused. “Here,”
I said, taking the Magnum from the holster and pressing it into
Frenchie’s hands. “Aim for the head. Snap off the safety and fire,”
I said, showing her the gun. She nodded wordlessly and rushed her
girls down the hallway.

Outside, I slammed the gymnasium door
shut and dropped a bar over it.

I jumped on my bike and gunned it. The
edges of the road were still covered in mounds of melting snow.
While early spring vegetation was popping up, the weather was still
cold and unpredictable.

I saw Will running toward the fire
hall; he was carrying a rifle in each hand. I slowed, and he slid
on behind me. Anyone who was armed had come running.

Jensen was in the middle of the
parking lot looking frantic. “West barricade,” he shouted at us.
“There must be 50 of them!”

We set off at once. As we neared the
west end of Main Street you could hear the sound of gunfire. The
sight was horrifying. At least 50 undead were pressing against the
street barricade. In some spots, they had nearly broken through.
Some of the undead had started to trail down the barricade line,
and soon they would find the weaknesses between the
buildings.

Dusty and Fred were standing in the
back of one pick-up. About five men stood in the back of another
and were shooting into the oncoming horde.


Holy shit,” Will
exclaimed.

When we pulled up, Will jumped off and
climbed into the back of one of the trucks. I set off on the dirt
bike to get to the undead trailing down the barricade
lines.

I recognized the undead form of Brian
Hoolihan. His farm was just on the edge of town. He used to bring
turnips to my grandmother. She would make soup out of them for him.
He always liked my grandma; she was the only person he knew who
like turnips or so he said. He lunged at the bike as I neared him.
The barbed wire barricade kept us separated. With a heavy sigh, I
shot him between his eyes.

Another undead, a fast moving young
male, was nearing a weakness in the line where the barricade passed
the charred structure of the flower shop. I was amazed at how
quickly he moved. I spun the bike toward him, but it was slow in
the soggy grass, grinding in the turf. I gave it some gas, and
finally it lunged forward just as the young man bolted out of the
ruins. He moved, quickly, directly at me.

I hit the gas to dodge him. When I
did, the bike leapt forward but the snowy ground caused the bike to
slide sideways. I found myself choosing between being caught and
pulled to the ground by the bike or dealing with the undead youth
bent on killing me. I jumped off. The bike fell sideways and slid
across the mud. I tried to pull out the automatic, but it snagged
on my winter jacket. In a heartbeat, the undead youth jumped at
me.

My shashka, the scabbard strapped
across my back, was out in a flash. I ducked and bolted sideways. I
clambered onto the fence railing in the flower shop parking
lot.

Having missed, the youth turned and
lunged at me again. I jumped and as I turned sideways, the sword
slashed outward.

It had connected. I kept myself
upright, slid to a stop, and then turned.

The youth had stopped. For a moment,
he stood facing away from me. When he turned, I noticed I had
sliced off his hand. I stared at him; he stared back at me. Those
milk-white eyes looked something other than dead. Was he thinking?
Had he felt pain? Was he considering his next move?

He snarled, the saliva and bloody foam
dripping from his mouth, and lunged once more at me.

This time I faced him head on. I held
my on-guard fencing stance and let him approach. Reel him in.
Patience. Anticipate. He was quick, and his plan was simple: maul
me. When he was within striking distance, I lunged. A split second
later, he was hanging by his head from my sword, the shashka poking
out of the back of his skull.

It took a moment for that
strange light in his eyes to go out, and as I stared him down, a
strange voice rasped inside my head.
Help
us
.

My stomach shook. I couldn’t tell if
the voice had come from the people behind me or the boy hanging off
the end of my sword.


Layla!” Dusty screamed.
They had broken through the barricade.

I shook the dead body loose. Taking a
moment to rip off my jacket, I freed the automatic and ran back
down the line to Main Street. Will and the others had climbed onto
the roofs of the trucks and were shooting into the oncoming horde.
Another truck pulled up; they shot out the window.

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