The Complete Harvesters Series

by Luke R. Mitchell

  Christ, had he even noticed they weren’t at a stop right now? Nothing to see here, just a bloody lady boarding a moving train from out of nowhere.

  The lady on the other side of the compartment, on the other hand, was looking more shocked by the second as her eyes took in Lilly’s battered appearance piece by piece.

  “Good heavens,” she finally said. “Are you all right, dear?”

  Lilly nearly laughed despite everything.

  Was she all right?

  It was the funniest damn thing she’d heard all week. But the lady seemed to mean well.

  “I’m, uh…”

  She almost said fine, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to lie that drastically, even to a perfect stranger.

  Instead, she turned to the Young Professional of the Year. “Can I borrow your comm?”

  He looked at her like she’d just asked for a kidney, and it was only then that his gaze flicked over her bloodied hands and what must have been an utterly disheveled face by now.

  “Excuse me?”

  Lilly suppressed the exasperated huff in her chest. “Look, I’m having a rough day”—she waved demonstratively at herself—“I need to call my husband. It’s very important.”

  He eyed her distrustfully and shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

  And with that, he looked pointedly back to his comm as if those two words should suffice at explaining why he simply couldn’t be bothered to help a frantic, bloody stranger right now.

  The son of a—

  “You can borrow mine, dear,” the older lady said, but she was too late.

  Riding on a swell of frustrated rashness, Lilly had already reached out to slap a hand to the young jackass’ forehead and telepathically shove him out of his state of snarky consciousness.

  She immediately regretted the action as he made an indignant sound of alarm under her palm and summarily slumped in his seat. On principal, she avoided tampering with others’ minds or even making attempts to gauge their thoughts and emotions without explicit permission.

  But she didn’t have time to play nice right now, and the bastard had kind of asked for it.

  “I think he’ll survive a day without his precious baby,” Lilly said quietly to the old lady as she unfastened the sleeping man’s comm and slipped it from his wrist. “I’ll pull his address and send it back to him when I’m done.”

  The old lady studied Lilly for a stretch, her gaze flicking back to the young professional a few times, probably wondering what the hell Lilly had just done to him. Lilly thought she might also be fixing to point out one of the several legal and moral dilemmas of her plan, but, finally, the lady just nodded. “All right, dear. You do what you have to.”

  Well that was unexpected.

  “Uh, thanks. You mind if I keep you company here for a minute?”

  The lady waved at the seats in invitation.

  Lilly slid the sleeping professional’s earpiece out of his ear and into hers, then she settled down beside the old lady, tapped in Robert’s Net ID from heart, and hit the call icon.

  It didn’t even make it through the second connection pending tone before the call cut to an automated recording.

  “Apologies, the Net ID you’re trying to contact is invalid. Please check the ID and try again.”

  “No,” Lilly whispered.

  “Problem, dear?”

  “I think…”

  She reentered Robert’s ID and hit call again instead of finishing that thought.

  “Apologies, the Net ID you’re trying to contact is—”

  “Shit!” Lilly hissed, jabbing the end icon.

  She wanted to hit something. It was too much. Too much. Too fucking much.

  She buried her face against her knee, wrapped her arms around her legs, and squeezed for all she was worth, physically wringing out the urge to scream as best she could before it overwhelmed her.

  What did she do now? What could she do? If they’d shut down Robert’s ID too, they would know where to find him. They’d know about Rachel, too, and where to find her.

  Every minute Lilly ran was another minute she might tempt those bastards to go after her family instead. And what if they already had? What would she do? What—

  A warm hand settled on her back.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, deary,” the old lady said slowly, “but it’s going to be okay.”

  Lilly turned to the old lady, tears blurring her vision.

  “And if it isn’t,” the lady added, scrunching her face up and somehow quadrupling the depth of her wrinkles. “You should probably think about calling the police.”

  Lilly let out something between a sob and a laugh. For a long second, she almost took the old lady’s advice, almost gave up then and there and reached for the comm’s emergency call icon.

  Let this be someone else’s problem. She couldn’t do this on her own.

  And yet something stayed her hand.

  Maybe it was blind paranoia. Maybe. But if the vampires had the reach to cut off both her and Robert’s Net IDs, not to mention the ability to shrug off gunfire and turn a man’s own weapon effortlessly against him with nothing more than a thought…

  She couldn’t trust the police. And even if she could have, they wouldn’t be able to stop those creatures. Not with the single measly squad car they’d send to check on her and her family.

  Her mom was at the house already, and Rachel and Robert would be home shortly. She needed to get to the house and get them out of there.

  The train began to slow, and the automated conductor announced they were about to arrive at the East Falls station.

  It was her stop.

  Lilly stood, apprehension threatening to turn her stomach into knots.

  “Thank you,” she said to the old lady.

  The lady returned a look full of concern. “You’re sure I can’t call the authorities for you, dear?”

  Lilly shook her head. “I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be doing anyone any favors.”

  She turned to cross to the doors and wait but paused mid-step. “There is something else, though.”

  The old lady’s questioning gaze was waiting when Lilly turned around. “What’s that, dear?”

  “Could I borrow your coat?”

  She felt bad even asking, and it was probably stupid to think the garment would help her escape the vampires’ notice at anything more than a cursory glance, but it was something, and wondering around in a bloody blue button-down wasn’t exactly conducive to keeping a low profile.

  The old lady stood with barely a second’s hesitation and silently began removing her coat.

  “You don’t have to,” Lilly said quickly. The train was nearly at the station now. “I won’t, you know…” She hooked a thumb at the sleeping young professional.

  The old lady held the furry coat out all the same. “Take it, dear. And be safe.”

  Hot tears made a second resurgence at the backs of her eyes. She pulled the coat on as the train slowed to a complete stop. She started to turn, then darted forward on impulse and wrapped the old lady in a hug.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Then she rushed through the opening doors and off the train.

  She made it all of three steps through the bustling crowd before she spotted him.

  The bearded vampire was leaning against a railing two train cars down, watching the line of passengers unboarding. There were two men she didn’t recognize beside him. More vampires?

  One of them raised its nose and sniffed, and Lilly became uncomfortably aware of the light breeze rustling her hair in their direction.

  Shit. Three vampires. How in god’s name was she supposed to make it down to the street and up to the house without them scenting her out and hounding her down?

  She turned right to hide her face from them and was considering trying it anyway when she spotted the black vampire she’d burned earlier sniffing his way around the crowd at the rear compartment.

  Make that four vam
pires. And they had her hedged in. There was nowhere to go but through them or back on the train.

  The facts of the situation flashed through her mind with lightning rapidity and maddeningly little clarity.

  Over and over it all flashed, the longest five seconds of Lilly’s life. Four vampires. Her family. Home. Not safe. Out. They needed to get out. Couldn’t make it, not without four vampires on her tail. Had to warn them.

  How?

  And then the answer came to her, and she turned and darted back onto the train just as the doors began to slide closed.

  The old lady looked up in surprise.

  “Change of plans.” Lilly said.

  “Oh,” the lady said, as if those three words made perfect sense all on their own.

  Lilly hunkered down next to the old lady and did her best to keep out of sight of the windows as the train began forward again. Once they were clear of the station, she pulled off the coat and handed it back. “I don’t think I’ll be needing this after all.”

  The lady took the coat back and looked from it to Lilly, trying to piece together some meaning from the exchange.

  Lilly stood quietly, waiting.

  A kind of perverse peace fell over her as she ran through the plan once more in her head, gratefully drinking in the silence of the train after the insanity she’d just survived.

  Too soon, it was time. Another few seconds and she probably wouldn’t be able to reach.

  So she flipped off her cloaking pendant, sank into her senses, and cast a narrow tendril of thought out as far as she could in the direction they’d come from.

  Even at a distance, it wasn’t hard to spot the vampires’ minds among the crowd.

  Lilly locked onto the one she imagined might be the glib bearded vampire and gave him a firm mental rap. “Come get me, you bastard.”

  She wouldn’t win points for subtlety, but she kind of doubted the vampires would be worried about a trap or would really care about anything other than catching her at this point.

  She felt his mind snap back at hers, seeking some purchase, but she was already clicking her cloak back on.

  It was done.

  They’d come for her, she had no doubt of that.

  Now she just had to see to it her family got out while they could.

  10

  John set down the latest atrocity parading as a short-answer biology exam, leaned back in his chair, and indulged in a heavy sigh. That done, he glanced back at the last line of the paper. In conclusion, I think it’s possible evolution is just what the aliens want us to believe.

  At least this was the last one in the sad stack of hair-brained hypotheses and soulless regurgitations.

  John shook his head for good measure and reached for his red pen.

  It was days like this that made him question why he even bothered.

  For the ones who care, he reminded himself.

  To be fair, there were a pair of promising gems among the alien conspiracy theorists and the sizable hunk of students who were more likely than not majoring in biology simply because their parents were doctors and they weren’t quite sure what else to do (not that anyone could be blamed for being uncertain at that age).

  Still, he had his two potential avid biologists out of his class of 100. That was enough. He’d lecture on, fanning the flames of their curiosity as best he could, and if the rest of the cloudy-eyed crowd decided to follow along, wonderful.

  John leafed back through the stack and found the two A+, 100% exams. Patrick and Kim.

  The cycle, it seemed, was repeating before his very eyes.

  He’d seen the way Pat had been staring at Kim since the first day of class, when she’d flawlessly answered every question he hadn’t until John had felt compelled to resort to the old, awkward let’s hear from someone else drill. It wasn’t hard for anyone with a pair of eyes to spot—anyone but Kim, of course. Because that’s how these things went.

  They’d become good friends throughout the semester—John had no doubt about that. They’d study together, work on projects together. Maybe even go to a party or two. On and on until Pat couldn’t make it between two breaths without thinking of her. And until Kim decided she kind of liked jockey guys who seemed really new and interesting until college ended and they became investment bankers.

  Insert decade of unrequited love songs and crippling emotional turmoil here.

  The poor sap probably had no idea what was about to hit him. Maybe John should pull him aside and teach him a valuable life lesson about how humans had gone and confused the entire process of mate bond pairing over the millennia with the advent and recent acceleration of crippling self-esteem issues for one and all.

  Not that the kid would listen. John wouldn’t have at his age—hell, still couldn’t, if the past couple weeks had been any indication.

  He sure felt like a kid again.

  What grown man resorted to blocking his own access to someone’s NetSpace just to get himself to stop looking? It was his own block, for the love of all that was holy. He could disable it with two taps.

  All he’d really done was confirmed he didn’t believe he had the self-control to abstain from his golden-haired drug of choice.

  Maybe he and Pat could sit down in a few years and talk about it over a nice cold—

  His comm buzzed against his wrist, followed an instant later by the incoming call tone of the connected desk console. He glanced at the desk display, which offered up the Net ID of one Phillip Lanning, who John definitely did not recognize.

  That was odd.

  He considered letting the call go to voicemail. If it was important… But how many people called out of the blue for unimportant things these days? He sighed and swiped into the call, utterly unprepared for the excited trill that shot through his chest when the video feed connected.

  “Lilly? What the—Oh my God!”

  The question of what on earth Lilly was doing with Phillip Lanning’s Net ID vanished from John’s mind as he took in her appearance.

  Lilly looked like she’d lost a fight with a particularly moody cat, or a patch of unforgiving asphalt. The bloody lines of recent scratches littered her chin and her cheeks, one of which looked freshly bruised. Her hair was ruffled and wild despite the hasty-looking ponytail she’d thrown it into.

  And was she on top of a moving train? The whipping hair and sounds of rushing wind said yes.

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “I’m…” She shook her head, not quite meeting his gaze. “No. Not really. Not at all.”

  His stomach fell at her tone.

  “What happened? Why are you—”

  “I’m sorry, John. I don’t have long. That thing I called about in the airport. I need your help. You need to get them out.”

  “What?”

  “My family. I need you to—” She clenched her jaw and swallowed, clearly on the verge of tears. “They cut our Net IDs, John. I’m on a stolen comm. I can’t reach Robert. You need to get over there and—”

  “Wait. I don’t understand. Who are ‘they’? Lilly, what’s—”

  “I can’t explain it right now,” she snapped. “There’s no time.”

  “If they’re in danger, we need to call the—”

  “No police.” Lilly shook her head. “Police can’t help, can’t be trusted. They have people everywhere.”

  “Lilly, this is—I don’t know who they are! What do you mean, we can’t trust the pol—”

  “Do you love me?”

  The question hit him like a kick to the chest without warning—all the more so when he realized her eyes were brimming with tears.

  His mouth worked soundlessly, his vocal chords seized to silence by a sudden terror that filled him like cold murky water.

  Why? What could possibly be happening to have her so desperate?

  “I’m sorry.” Her whisper was barely audible over the rushing air. The tears were running now, streaking down her battered cheeks to her chin, where the wind stre
am caught on and flung them into open air. “I’m so sorry, John, but I need you to trust me. For Rachel. I need you to get over there and get them out.” Her gaze snapped over her comm toward something in the distance behind the train then back to him, and there was a new urgency in her eyes. “Do it now, John. Please. No police. I’ll find you as soon as I can.”

  He stared dumbly at her, his mouth and tongue ignoring all thoughts of speech. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He needed to say something, he was sure of that much, and yet all he could do was stare.

  Tears filled his eyes. The look Lilly gave him threatened to rip his heart apart on the spot.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  And then she was gone.

  11

  Lilly waved down the comm holo and wiped the tears from her cheeks, feeling raw and tainted inside. She felt horrible to tug on John’s heart strings like that—the very strings she’d been so careful to avoid disturbing since the last days of undergrad, when she’d started to realize just how tightly they’d been strung for her.

  But she hadn’t lied to John, even if the love she felt for him wasn’t the same as the one he felt for her. And this was a matter of life and death. Her conscience would just have to find a way to forgive her.

  As long as John listened and got his ass over to the house, double time—got Rachel to safety. The look in his eyes at the end there—the open shock and pain that had been like a hot knife to her heart—told her he would.

  She could only pray she wasn’t wrong about her old friend. She had to trust him. Because now that it was done, she didn’t have time to worry about it.

  The vampires were coming.

  She could feel them even outside of her extended senses—an impending doom that crept through her bones and whispered that she might as well lie down and accept that it was over.

  But not yet. Not while her mind and body were still hers to run with.

  As for how she should go about running…

  They’d be at the Wissahickon stop soon. Staying on fixed tracks with the train didn’t seem a viable option when the vampires were apparently capable of outpacing said train. If she could find a car, she might be able to lead them out of the city and give John time to get over to the house and get her family out. But what was she going to do, hop off at Wissahickon and steal one? Her last car ride hadn’t exactly worked out, and it wouldn’t help that they were moving into rush hour, but what other option did she have?