Midway: The Harvesting Series Book 2

by Melanie Karsak

  I looked across the horizon. Suddenly, I saw a very strange blue-green light in the field. At first I thought it was a firefly, but the light never went off. The orb of light bounced across the grass. I watched it for a moment. Puck barked.

  “You see that?” Vella whispered.

  “Yeah, I see it,” I replied.

  “What is it?” Vella asked.

  “Swamp gas?”

  “A wisp?”

  I frowned at Vella.

  The light bounced playfully in the field.

  “I think we should follow it,” Vella said. Her voice was thin and mystical. I didn’t like it a bit.

  “I don’t know about that,” I replied.

  “Just follow it,” Vella answered.

  I sighed. I didn’t really want to follow the light, but I was curious. I turned the Bronco onto the grassy field and followed the glowing orb. It bounced over the grass and down a hill. The light went into the thick woods where the Bronco couldn’t follow.

  “We should go after it,” Vella said.

  “Walk after it? Like hell,” I replied. “You do know it’s night? And you do know we are in the middle of nowhere? And you do remember there are zombie-lookin’ things creapin’ around everywhere, right?”

  Vella watched the light. “We should follow it,” she said again.

  I clicked off the Bronco and turned to have a very serious discussion with Vella when Puck, who had been sitting quietly between Vella and me, suddenly crawled across Vella’s lap and jumped out the window.

  I saw his tail wagging as he bounded across the grass toward the glowing light.

  “Dammit,” I swore and jumped out of the Bronco. I grabbed the pipe wrench and Mama’s pistol and went after the dog. “Puck!” I called, but he ignored me. He bolted across the grass following the blue light.

  Vella was hot on my heels.

  “Soon as I get him back we’re goin’ back to the Bronco,” I told her.

  Vella said nothing but kept pace with me. The dog and the light disappeared into the dark woods. When I reached the border between the field and the forest, I hesitated.

  “Puck!” I called into the woods with scolding authority. “Puck!” I realized then that if I went around screaming, I was inviting trouble. “Damned dog,” I grumbled, and stepping into the forest, I went after him. Vella followed.

  We wove through the woods. I could see the blue light and the shadow of Puck following behind it. Suddenly, however, the light bounced up then dropped out of view. I spotted Puck sitting on a rise. The moonlight was shining down on him. “There he is,” I pointed. Vella and I ran toward him. When we got close, I called him again: “Puck, come here, you bad dog.”

  Puck rose, wagging his tail, and jogged toward me.

  Vella walked toward the rise where Puck had been sitting. No matter what, I was done following weird lights. “Let’s head back.” I turned to go, grabbing Puck by the collar.

  “Cricket?” Vella called.

  “Oh, no. I’m not chasing any more lights in the woods. Come on.”

  “No, wait. Look!”

  With a sigh, I walked back toward the rise where Puck had been sitting. Down across the valley below us we saw the twinkle of light. “What is it?”

  Vella shook her head. “I don’t know. Looks like some kind of building.”

  We both stood there considering.

  I looked down at Puck. He whimpered excitedly, his tail wagging. “No way,” I told him. He whimpered.

  “We should go. Maybe we’ll find some help,” Vella suggested.

  “Or maybe we’ll get eaten alive. Or worse.”

  “Worse than eaten alive?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “There is no way to know for sure unless we look. After all, the wisp brought us here. Don’t you agree, Puck?” Vella ask the dog who tipped his head and wagged his tail at her in agreement.

  “I don’t know . . .” My stomach knotted into a fist. My gut was telling me to stay put.

  “Look at the top of the building,” Vella said then.

  I sighed then looked, squinting to see. “A star?” It looked like there was a shining silver star on top of the building. “Maybe it’s a Holiday Inn.”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s the Star,” she replied.

  “What do you mean, the Star?”

  “In the tarot deck. The Star always follows the Tower.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “Hope.”

  “If you say so,” I said then sighed. “Lights can also mean a soft bed and a hot meal,” I added, defeated. I stuck the pistol in the back of my jeans, and keeping a tight grip on my pipe wrench, gazed across the vista at the Star.

  Chapter 4

  Vella and I crouched low in the underbrush at the side of the road. “I can’t see anything,” I complained in a whisper. All the street lamps were out. Only the stars and a bit of moonlight lit up the night. Darker than a grave, my daddy would have said, or darker than the inside of a cow, or darker than a stack of black cats. Daddy always had a way of saying things that made me laugh.

  We were on the far side of an abandoned four-lane highway. There were no cars in sight. It was dead quiet. Across the street sitting on a hillside was a boarded up shopping center. Thin slants of light shone out from between the boards covering the windows of Fisher’s Big Wheel, an abandoned big box store at the plaza’s center. On the roof of the plaza was a radio tower. And on the top of that tower was a glowing star: blue-colored solar lights reflected off faded Christmas tinsel wrapped around a wire star.

  “So much for your star,” I told Vella.

  “A star is a star. It’s still a symbol.”

  I sighed. Vella and I had left the Bronco hidden in the forest. We’d headed out to follow Vella’s hunch—mostly against my better judgment—on foot.

  Vella started digging through her pack. “I found some binoculars at the camping store,” she said, lifting the heavy black binoculars. She peered at the building. “I don’t see anyone or anything outside, but something is moving inside. Now what?”

  Just what I needed, to be led around a dying world by an uncertain fortune teller. “You’re askin’ me? If you’ve got cold feet, I say we head back to the Bronco. It was your—and Puck’s—idea to come here. You tell me now what.”

  “Then we follow the Star. Let’s go,” she said then stood.

  “And what if they aren’t friendly?” I asked with a harsh whisper.

  “But what if they are?”

  “We shouldn’t go around just trustin’ anyone. They could be murderers, rapists, God-knows-what. And maybe they won’t trust us either, and then where will we be?”

  “We are two women and a dog. Besides. . .the Star.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said with a frown. I checked Mama Rosie’s pistol again. I only had five shots left. Finding some ammo was becoming a priority. I adjusted the hunting knife strapped around my chest. “Dammit!” One of the pink rhinestone bedazzles spelling the word cute on my tanktop fell off.

  Moving quickly and carefully, we scooted across the highway. Puck dashed alongside us, his ears tilting back and forth; he was on full alert. From the way he was acting, I knew there was something nearby. I just wasn’t sure if it was a living person, a raving cannibal, or a squirrel.

  We ducked low when we reached the median. Since it looked clear, we headed across the grass and up the hill to the shopping plaza. There were six cars and a church van parked very close to the front door. Vella and I ran to the first car and dropped low. My heart was thudding in my chest. I didn’t want it to show, but I was scared out of my wits. Not only might the people inside shoot us on sight, but what if one of those deranged-looking people came bursting out?

  Vella, however, looked confident. Her dark eyes took in everything. I always thought that she looked at the world differently than the rest of us, like she saw more than the rest of us did. I sure hoped so.

  “How do we get in?” I whisp
ered. Up close, we were able to see that the front of the store was boarded up and covered with chicken wire. The doors were chained shut.

  “Around back?”

  “You sure about that?” The building was backed up against the side of the mountain. Surely there wouldn’t be more than a single car’s worth of width in the alley. Such a dark and narrow space sounded iffy on a normal day.

  “Come on,” she said confidently. Not waiting for my answer, she bent low and headed off toward the back of the building, Puck trotting quickly behind her. Neither of them looked back.

  “Dammit,” I whispered and took off after them. Fool’s errand, my daddy would have said, fool’s errand.

  The long alley was shadowed by thick trees leaning over the roof. You couldn’t see the other end. Not even a speck of moonlight shone there.

  “I’m not goin’ down there,” I whispered harshly.

  “There has to be a door. I have a flashlight.”

  “No way. I mean it. No way.”

  “We’ll just use the flashlight.”

  “There is no way I’m goin’ down there. Let’s head back and scope it out again in the morning.”

  Before Vella could argue, we heard a grunt and the sound of footsteps coming from the alley. Someone or something groaned with a low gurgling sound that echoed off the plaza walls.

  “Vella, go back,” I whispered as I started to back toward the parking lot.

  Vella paused to dig in her multicolored patched and embroidered satchel.

  “Vella,” I whispered, grabbing her arm, “let’s go!”

  Puck growled low and mean.

  There was a dragging sound followed by a low groan. I tightened my grip on my pipe wrench and strained to look. Something was moving toward us. A soft wind blew down the alley. A horrid smell burned my nose: it stunk like a dead animal.

  “There,” Vella said, finally pulling her flashlight from her bag. She snapped it on just in time to shine it on one of the deranged-looking people lumbering toward us. He dragged his leg behind him.

  Startled, Vella yelped, dropped the flashlight, and stumbled backward.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. I pulled out Mama Rosie’s gun and took aim as a man dressed in a bloody mechanics’ jumper neared us. Blood dripped from his chin, staining his white undershirt. His eyes looked moon-white in the glow of the flashlight that had gone rolling toward the alley. The flashlight’s beam cast spiraling light down the alleyway.

  “Stay back!” I yelled. My hands were shaking.

  “Shoot him!” Vella yelled.

  I shook my head. I was no killer. Mama Rosie. . .I was scared. It was an accident. This wasn’t the same thing. “Stay back, man. I don’t wanna shoot you,” I told him again. But still he came toward me. White frothy saliva tinged with blood poured like a fountain out of his mouth, and he moved quickly toward me. He bit and snapped. As he got closer, I smelled that terrible stench again. It was coming off him. He smelled like rotted meat and shit. I gagged.

  “Shoot, Cricket!”

  Puck growled; his teeth were bared.

  I raised the gun, closed one eye to squint, just like I did every time I played Water Gun Fun at Freckles’ game booth, and pulled the trigger.

  The gun blasted causing an echoing ring down the alley. With a gurgling grunt, the man dropped. The gunshot had startled a flock of crows that had roosted in the tree overhead. They cawed in protest and flew away. I watched them swirl up into the night’s sky.

  I lowered the gun. For a split second, I felt relieved, but the moment passed because a second later, the alley erupted in sound. First we heard moaning. As if in slow motion, the flashlight on the ground rolled to a stop, the beam of light pointing down the alleyway. A horde of deranged-looking people lumbered toward the sound of the gunshot, toward us. The flashlight shined in their eyes, causing a mirror-like reflection. They began moving quickly toward us.

  “Sweet baby Jesus,” I whispered.

  “Run!” Vella yelled.

  Vella, Puck, and I turned from the alley to run back into the parking lot when another small group of six or so appeared behind us, blocking our path. They had snuck up on us from behind. Were they capable of sneaking? Where had they come from?

  I turned and shot at a large man lumbering toward us. His intestines, dripping with brown ooze, slid out of a gash in the side of his stomach. A sharp smell like the stink of slime at the bottom of a trash bin wafted off him. The shot hit his shoulder but didn’t slow him down.

  “The head!” Vella shrieked. “Shoot him in the head!” A young woman lunged at Vella. Vella lifted the high-striker mallet and swung hard, smashing the girl on the side of the head. Blood splattered across Vella’s shirt and jeans. The woman slumped to the ground. I lifted the gun again and shot once more as I tried to fall back, away from the horde of at least thirty creatures rambling out of the alleyway toward us. This time my shot hit home, clipping the large man across one side of his head. He fell to the ground, jerking wildly, like his body was hit with electric shock. Finally, he went still.

  “Here! Up here!” I heard someone yell.

  Vella and I looked around wildly.

  “There!” Vella said, pointing.

  On the roof of the plaza, I saw a man waving at us. He held flashlights in both of his hands.

  “Try to get up here!” he yelled.

  I scanned the side of the building. Halfway down the alley, between us and the horde lumbering toward us, the light from the flashlight showed the dim shadow of a fire escape.

  Vella saw it at the same time. She pointed. “There, Crick!”

  “We’ll never make it!” I cast an eye all around. The limbs of a large oak tree on the hill behind the building extended over the roof. If we could get up the tree, we could drop down onto the roof. “There! There! Up the tree and over. Let’s go,” I said, pointing. I turned and started clambering up the grassy slope to the wood line.

  Grunting and snapping, the deranged people advanced on us.

  “Come on, Vella!” I called to her.

  Vella turned and ran up the side of the hill, grabbing hand-holds of weeds to pull her up the steep bankside. A few minutes later, she was standing at the tree line. She jumped up, grabbed a tree branch, and pulled herself into the tree.

  Puck had already climbed to the top of the hill and was standing under the tree, dancing nervously as he barked at the approaching horde.

  I clambered up the hill behind them. By the time I got to the top, Vella was already working her way across the branches to the roof. From the looks of it, I started to suspect Vella had spent some time in the big top. Two of the sick looking people tried to climb up the hill after us. Their movements were slow and clumsy. I aimed at the woman closest to us. My shot hit its mark. She fell to the ground, knocking down two others.

  I bent down and took Puck by the collar. “Baby, run. You understand me? I can’t lift you, and you can’t come after me. You gotta run. I’ll find a way to get you in but run! Go, Puck! Run,” I yelled at him, pointing into the woods behind us, away from the. . .zombies. That’s what they were, weren’t they? Zombies? I could barely believe it. The dog cocked his head to the side and looked at me.

  “Run! Go,” I yelled at him again. A moment later, Puck turned and ran into the woods. He disappeared out of sight. I grabbed the limb nearest me just as one of the zombies reached me. I heaved myself up, pulling with all my strength. The zombie grabbed my boot and pulled hard. I gasped as I felt him drag me down. I wrapped my arm around the branch, the bark biting my skin, and yanked my leg up as I wiggled my foot. With a tug, I pulled my foot out of my cowboy boot. It unbalanced him; he fell to the ground, knocking down several others coming up behind him. I climbed into the tree, grabbing limbs overhead to pull myself up and out of reach.

  Moving carefully, Vella and I shimmied across the limbs of the tall oak tree toward the building. Vella balanced carefully, swinging one foot in front of the other as she made her way across. The man on the
roof was waving us in, shinning his flashlight on the tree branches.

  “Careful,” he yelled. “Careful!”

  “Vella, you okay?” I called to her.

  She was stone silent as she moved her way across the branches.

  We were nearly twenty feet above the alleyway, and the branches were thinning as they bent toward the roof of the building.

  “Easy does it,” I called to Vella again, who did not answer me.

  I listened for Puck. No barks. No whimpers. He had just disappeared into the night.

  My fingers gripped the gritty bark. Fear made my hands prickle. Below, the zombies reached toward us, their bloody mouths snapping. If we fell, we were done. My heart pounded in my throat. Though it was cool, sweat trickled from my brow. And to think, I could have spent the night sleeping cozied up to Puck in a nice thermal sleeping bag in the back of the Bronco. Instead, I was dangling from a tree like bait. My hands tingled, the feeling of pins and needles setting them on fire, as I crossed the branches. I was doing okay until my boot heel slipped. I hooked my arm around the tree limb to balance myself.

  “Careful, Miss,” the man yelled to me.

  Vella had reached the thin branches above the building. She crouched down on the branch, grabbed the limb between her feet, then as slow as she could, she lowered herself. She was dangling maybe six feet above the roof. A moment later, she dropped safely onto the roof.

  “Watch over me, Daddy,” I whispered as I shimmied through the tree, trying to ignore the open mouths below me, waiting to gobble me whole. I moved across the branches until I reached the limb where Vella had dropped down. I bent and moved just like she did, dropping onto the roof.

  I hit the roof with a thud, my foot still wearing the cowboy boot twisting when I landed. Sharp pain shot through my ankle. I yelped.

  “Cricket!” Vella reached out for me.

  “My ankle,” I whispered.