The Harvest

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The Harvest Page 6

by Anne Ferretti

Making her stay more tolerable and prolonged had been the realization that she could communicate with Austin. At first she entertained him with glimpses of the future, later she used her power to manipulate him into doing her will. That he considered her his friend didn’t matter, guilt and remorse were foreign to her.

  Prior to Deadbear, the drive for survival had always dictated her every move, but Austin had changed that, her decisions became unclear for the first time ever. Exacerbating the situation was the voice often chose to be silent, refusing to answer her questions or provide advice. On many occasions she felt befuddled as if walking about in a fog.

  This lack of clarity kept her from telling Austin of his father’s impending demise. But she had fully expected him to be thrilled knowing the monster was gone from his life. Austin’s reaction towards her afterwards was unexpected and confusing. He’d shut her out of his mind, out of his life, directing all of his pain and anger at her. She’d thought he blamed her for his father’s death, but in truth the old man was all he had, and in his child’s mind this was better than not having anyone.

  On that occasion the isolation of her existence had suffocated her, had silently crept into her world and inflicted upon her an indescribable feeling of pressure in her chest, the sensation of someone squeezing the life from her. If she had described this feeling to Austin, he would have understood.

  Not knowing what else to do, she escaped her discomfort by retreating to Northern Siberia, a place more remote than Deadbear. A place she was sure to not find a single human being. There she remained for months, starving her mind and body until her will once again belonged solely to her. She’d triumphed over the longing, forcing the desire for Austin’s companionship from her. From then on she vowed to pursue only those things primal to her survival.

  All this was a long time ago and such pursuits no longer mattered in her current state of captivity. She rolled off the narrow bed and stood up inside her prison. A square glass box that hung suspended from the ceiling inside an expansive empty room. The walls of the room were made of concrete that never stopped perspiring. Massive concrete pillars held up the solid granite ceiling above.

  Men she’d managed to avoid for centuries had been allowed to capture her for reasons she did not understand, despite it being her decision to be caught. Not all things she decided were done so by her own free will. Instinct drove her to act or react in a manner that, in the end, always secured and to some great degree guaranteed her survival. She considered her instincts and the voice to be interchangeable, one in the same, for more accurate words never came to mind.

  She looked out across room at the heavy metal door, the only way in or out of the room. The general was coming to visit and he was bringing a meal. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath through her nostrils. Her nose crinkled. Her eyes snapped open. The sniveler, his scent undeniable, was coming as well. She despised the sniveler more than any human she’d ever encountered and upon her departure she planned to discover if he tasted as sweet as he smelled.

  The door opened. She could see the general held a plastic bag containing dark red liquid. Her vena sera. The scent permeated into the box making her mouth go dry from longing. He waited too many days between feedings, to the point she felt light headed, but she always stood steady before them. She hated being weak. She hated them seeing her weak, but they had no idea her strength, having found her in a similar state and perpetuating that state by too few feedings.

  General Roth, followed by Captain Chase, walked up to the glass box eyeing the creature inside with open curiosity. Her eyes, like black holes in the universe, were impossible to read. She’d displayed no indication of emotion or cognitive thought. With her ink black hair cut close to the scalp, barely noticeable breasts and skinny frame, she looked more like a young boy. Although her anatomy was that of a human female, Roth found nothing remotely feminine about her, yet the way she moved, like a lioness stalking its prey, was as disturbing as it was seductive.

  “Good morning.” The general waited for a response, but none came. He sighed. They’d been trying for over a month now to communicate with her, but still saw no signs of intelligence. The only thing she seemed to understand was feeding time. Roth held up the bag. Her nostrils flared and he thought her finger twitched, but couldn’t be certain.

  “It must be hungry.” Captain Chase commented, not caring one way or another. If it had been up to him the abomination would have starved to death.

  “Don’t talk.” Roth ordered. He had noticed after reviewing the surveillance video over and over again, she did not like Chase. The signs of her dislike were so subtle, he had overlooked them the first fifty times he watched the footage. Video that, at first view, appeared to be of her sitting or lying down, motionless for hours upon hours. He’d poured over the videos, every minute detail and knew better.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Roth held up the bag and walked over to a small revolving door that was on one wall of the enclosure about four feet up. She followed Roth. He punched in a code and the door on his side slid open. He pulled a needle attached to a vile from his pocket, and placed it on the tray. The door slid closed opening again on the inside “I need another sample.” He looked into her eyes, something as a rule he tried to avoid, but he wanted to be certain she understood.

  She stared at the vile, not picking it up, and looked out at the general. Behind her blank dead stare she was wondering what the general might taste like. She knew because of the disease in his blood that he would probably be more bitter than sweet. She cast her gaze down onto the sniveler. His blood, however, would be very sweet, but that was the way his type always tasted. Without looking, she took the vile from the tray and jammed the needle into her leg drawing a bluish black liquid from her veins. Once filled, she placed it back on the tray.

  “Thank you.” Roth replied, relief obvious in his tone. He thought he might have to re-teach the process to her. A task arduous enough the first few times around, but one he hoped she’d learned by now.

  “Can we go? It creeps me out.” Chase sniveled.

  “I think she feels the same about you.” Roth commented, watching her for a reaction. There was none. Disappointed, he placed the plastic bag in the tray. When the door opened on her side, she didn’t lunge for the bag, or snatch it up, tearing it open as a starving person might do once they’ve been given food. Rather, using care she picked the bag up, walked to her bed, sat down and waited.

  Roth knew her habit was to wait for several minutes after his departure before taking a sip. No matter how long he went without feeding her, this was always, without the slightest deviation, her routine. Today appeared to be no different.

  She held the bag against her frigid skin and found by doing this for several minutes brought the temperature down to a palatable level. The blood felt warm to the touch, more so than usual, which indicated freshness. It amused her knowing the general assumed she was shy or embarrassed. He would not have thought it so amusing to know these were feelings she was incapable of experiencing. She was relieved to see Roth and the sniveler were leaving.

  Roth glanced back at her once before closing the door behind him, thinking he might catch her in the act, but she hadn’t moved from her spot. He shrugged, letting the air out of his lungs and stiffness from his shoulders. At times he almost agreed with Captain Chase. Maybe they should let her starve to death. After all, she’d offered up nothing to give him reason to believe she had any useful abilities or even average intelligence, which was disheartening to say the least.

  When they first brought her to the Section, his imagination went wild with the possibilities of having an alien creature in their midst. Was she intelligent? Where was she from? Were there others? Gossip amongst the section staff speculated that she was a vampire. The general had laughed at their notions, calling them absurd. Vampire was a concocted word not based in scientific fact and, as far as he was concerned, belonged in Hollywood, not in the reality he was dealing with right
here.

  So on and on he pondered about and over her existence. His pondering turned into frustration when day after day she provided nothing. She never spoke and he only referred to her as the subject, refusing to use any of the nicknames he’d heard his men whispering. He would have pulled the plug as Chase had suggested, but then came the breakthrough in getting her blood sample. Once that occurred, Roth’s enthusiasm over his subject again knew no bounds, driven by the certainty her DNA held the key to eternal life. She’d become his blinding obsession.

  Roth hurried down the corridor, anxious to get the sample to the lab, but was stopped when the alarms went off. Lights flashed and ‘Code Orange’ blared out from the speakers over and over again. Code Orange meant only one thing. Roth dropped the vile into his pocket regretting that eternal life would have to wait a bit longer. Code Orange was never used in training exercises, but he was ready and knew just what needed to be done.

  6 CLOSE ENCOUNTER

  Present Day

  Bunkered down in Lucky’s dairy freezer, the unlikely trio finished their dinner of chili and crackers. Luke collected the empty cans in a plastic bag, tying the ends into a knot. Despite believing they were the only humans left alive, Austin insisted they not leave a trail of garbage in their wake. His need to abide by this rule, or any rule for that matter, on the surface appeared to be an automatic reaction ingrained into his thought processes. Under the surface those rules meant having hope for the future, something neither Luke nor Austin dwelled on or discussed.

  With dinner over, there wasn’t much left to do except wait for morning. The three travelers prepared to bed down. Madison unraveled a sub zero sleeping bag. She exchanged her boots for running shoes and climbed in fully clothed. She placed her nine mil on the floor; barrel pointed at the wall and zipped her bag closed, but not all the way. She pushed herself up against the wall and then placed her gun in her lap, checking again that the safety was on. Austin, who noticed everything under the guise of a blank expression, was somewhat impressed. It had never occurred to him to change out of his boots.

  “How long you been on the road ma’am?” Luke asked from the opening of his gortex cocoon.

  “You’re gonna have to drop the ma’am stuff and just call me Madison or Maddie. K?”

  “Sure thing.” Luke agreed. “You can call me Luke...you know cuz , um, that’s my name.” He cleared his throat, feeling the warm flush rising up his neck. He tried to relax, telling himself she couldn’t see his face, which was most likely beat red at this point.

  “Well Luke, I left Tampa back in May, so what’s that? Like four months?”

  “It took you four months to get here?” Austin’s condescending tone was difficult to miss, but Madison ignored it.

  “I was in Tampa when the bodies dropped. I...I was trying to find my sister.”

  “Don’t pay him no mind.” Luke offered as an apology for Austin’s harsh tone and inhospitable attitude, wondering what had gotten into the captain.

  “We all have our demons.” Madison replied, shrugging.

  “Where ya goin’ in Colorado?” Austin asked using a less harsh tone, wondering himself why he was being an asshole.

  “Pueblo. Or close to it. I read an article about this millionaire kid who built an elaborate underground bunker just outside Pueblo. Said it was the size of a small town and could hold up to a hundred people for seventeen years. So...”

  “So that’s your plan?” Austin finished for her. “To somehow find this bunker and then what? You gonna knock on the door and invite yourself in? Oh wait it’s a bunker, so it must be underground, which means the entrance is buried under four feet of snow and ice. Good plan.”

  She cast him a glare. “If you’d let me finish. After I read the article, I contacted a friend in Pueblo sheriff’s department, who was more than happy to share. Turns out this guy wasn’t exactly a favorite in law enforcement circles. So, captain, I know exactly how to find the entrance. As to your other question, I’m betting by the time I arrive the kid will be slap happy to see another human being.”

  Austin smirked, keeping further snide remarks to himself. He had no reason to berate this woman, who must have gone through hell getting this far on her own. He should be congratulating her, not picking her apart. What the hell was wrong with him? Roxi would have smacked him upside his head had she been there.

  “The guy’s like my age ain’t he?” Luke asked.

  “I think he was twenty four at the time of the article. And that was about two, or three years ago. If you can believe everything you read.”

  “How’d boy wonder make his millions?” Austin asked.

  “Pot.”

  “Pot?”

  “Yeah. He sold marijuana. His company was the first of its kind to go public. I forget what he called it.”

  “M.J. Inc.” Luke filled in. “I wrote a paper on it for my Business Theory class.”

  “M.J. Inc. Right. Anyway, that’s where I’m going. What about you guys?”

  “Cheyenne Mountain.” Luke proudly informed her.

  “What’s in a mountain?” She asked.

  “The toughest military base ever constructed.” Austin responded. And Section Seven he thought to himself.

  “Yeah. It’s built six hundred feet under the mountain. Has top of the line technology, including a hospital, and they grow their own food.” Luke added.

  “I guess that trumps a pot smoker’s bunker.” Madison quipped.

  “Yeah, I guess it does.” Austin’s voice had a hint of a smile.

  Madison glanced over at Austin, but he wore the same steely expression. “Do you know what we’re dealing with? I mean it can’t be another country or even our government. It’s gotta be an alien right?”

  “That would be my guess.” Luke answered. “Cuz, you know, why would the government want to kill all those people?”

  “Have you seen anything?” Madison asked.

  Luke sat up on his elbows, shaking his head while glancing over at Austin.

  “You’ve seen them?” She asked. “Who are they?”

  “They’re not a who.”

  “Not a who? What does that mean?”

  “They’re not human. And no I haven’t seen them.” He zipped up his sleeping bag, and rolled on his side facing away from Madison. “If this meet and greet is over, we should get some sleep.” He turned off the light not waiting for a response.

  “What do they look like?” Madison asked, unwilling to give up just yet.

  “Picture the boogey man.” Austin replied. “And then try to imagine something a thousand times worse.”

  “Oh.” Madison replied. She scrunched down in her bag and tried to not picture something worse that the boogey man. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight Maddie, Madison.” Luke fumbled, silently berating himself for sounding like a dorky kid. So what if she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, that didn’t mean he had to act like he’d never seen a pretty woman. He’d seen plenty of pretty women. Not supermodel pretty, but still it was no reason to act like an idiot.

  “Thanks for letting me to stay with you guys.” Madison said.

  “You’re welcome.” Austin answered before Luke could respond.

  “Conceited asshole.” Madison mumbled to herself. She repeated this again in her head and then quickly reminded herself to not nitpick her new travel companions. After all, it wasn’t as if the choices were even few and far between, they were nil. And, all things considered, she could have happened upon worse, much worse.

  She didn’t hold any misguided sense of security when it came to men, not in post apocalypse America. She felt certain Luke was innocence personified. As for the captain...she wasn’t sure what to think of him. Instincts said he was dangerous, but not a danger to her, not in the traditional sense of the word anyway. Maddie closed her eyes, hoping for sleep. She didn’t have to hope for long.

  Five feet away, Austin closed his eyes, but his mind didn’t grant him peace. Images of Roxann
e floated in and out of view, always the same, always her same desperate cries for him to help her, to save their baby. Roxi morphed into Eve. Green eyes turned pitch black. Eve beckoned him to follow her. He watched for a sign, or an indication that he was on the right track, but she revealed nothing. Frustrated he opened his eyes and focused on the sound of his companion’s breathing. Both were fast asleep.

  “Sydney.” Madison mumbled in her sleep. “Stop Syd. Not funny…”

  She mumbled something else, but Austin couldn’t make out the words. She shifted in her sleeping bag, but didn’t wake. Curious about something, Austin held the night vision goggles up to his eyes, and looked over at Madison. Her hand rested on her gun as he had expected. He was about to lower the goggles, but paused for a second on her face. Even in the green light, he understood the effect she had on Luke and probably most men she came in contact with. Beauty was a dangerous thing. If they crossed paths with other men, it might cause them to act less than civilized. He’d seen it happen before over less.

  Tossing the goggles to the side, he zipped up and turned over. It was his duty to protect all citizens from the enemy, regardless if the enemy was foreign, domestic or a monster. The origin of the threat was of no consequence to him. In this he accepted the responsibility of Madison’s well being. He now had two opportunities at redemption. This time he hoped not to fail.

  There were a few things about her granting him the slightest bit of comfort. That she was a cop and obviously knew how to handle a weapon was a definite plus. And, despite his earlier remark, he was impressed she’d made it this far on her own, which indicated she had better than average survival skills. Knowing he wouldn’t have to hold her hand gave him as much peace of mind as anything could these days.

  The question of her age crossed his mind. He muddled through what little he learned about her. As a lieutenant she had to be at least twenty five, but it seemed unlikely she was that young. Not because she looked older, she just projected an air of maturity that indicated she was closer to thirty, maybe over thirty. Too old for Luke, he thought. And then shook his head at why he would think such a thing. He sighed and closed his eyes. This time he slept undisturbed.

 

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