Harvest

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Harvest Page 6

by Michele Gwynn


  The light took on the vague shape of a large oval. It’s silvery surface reflecting the gray storm clouds. It almost blended right in except for the glow around it. A stream of light shot down into the feedlot, beyond a large industrial building. Just as suddenly, the light retreated and the oval glowed blindingly bright and shot up into the clouds, disappearing.

  “Fuck!” Dave sat there with a stunned expression on his face. Fear suffused his entire being along with a strong curiosity.

  The three of them looked at each other. Lynda’s face was covered in silent tears. Maggie was shivering inside her coat, and Dave struggled with what to do, what to say.

  Knowing what Maggie had seen to be true now, it wasn’t much of a step further to believe his mom’s story. Still, he didn’t want to think about it. The thought that people could be beamed up through a ceiling and carted off was more than his brain could comprehend. One thought broke through all the others. Dad. Mom said dad had been taken. Was it possible he was out there, somewhere in that feedlot? Was anyone else out there? Just the thought of one single person out in the field cemented it for Dave. He knew he’d have to go check it out. Fuck it!

  Running his hand over his mouth, Dave looked at Maggie and his mom.

  “Someone could be out there. Dad….” He let the possibility sink in.

  “You can’t go out there. You don’t know what’s there!” said Lynda. She was thinking only of the fact that Dave was her only child; all that she had left right now.

  Maggie looked thoughtful. Looking around, she spied the overpass up ahead. “We could park under the overpass. It would give us some cover.”

  Dave looked in the direction she indicated. “We park there and walk up through that cornfield. It’s tall enough that we won’t be seen. We could get close enough to just look, see if anyone is there” she said.

  “No!” his mom protested.

  Maggie took Lynda’s hand. “We’ll be together. It will be okay. Look,” she indicated all around them with her hands. “No one is around right now.”

  “You saw how fast it came in. We won’t be able to outrun it if it comes back” Lynda pointed out logically. “What the hell are we going to do if it sees us?”

  “It won’t, see you, that is,” said Dave. “because you’re not going. I’ll go. I can run faster than both of you. I’m stronger. I’ll keep low. If there’s any hint of light in the sky, I’ll hit the ground and stay put until it passes.”

  “Dammit, son! I forbid you to go!” Lynda began to cry again, but her voice held steel.

  “Mama, it’ll be alright. I promise.” Dave put his hand over the clasped hands of his mom and Maggie.

  He looked at Maggie. “You’ll stay with her, Mags. I need you to stay here with her.”

  Maggie saw the determined look in his blue eyes. She nodded her assent.

  Dave drove up and under the overpass. He parked on the shoulder and handed the keys to Maggie.

  Dave stepped outside of the truck and turned around, doing a brief survey of the area. It was cold. The wind had picked up. Maggie stepped out behind him. She placed her hand on his arm.

  “I should be back in about twenty minutes, tops, no matter what I see. If there’s anyone there, I’ll come back first to tell you, then we’ll decide what to do.”

  “What if…what do I do if you’re not back in twenty minutes?” her voice wobbled over the last few words.

  Dave placed his hands on either side of her face. “You get the hell out of here. Drive to Tulsa and find help.”

  “But what about you?” she sniffled

  “Don’t you worry about that. If I’m not back in time, it’s because I’m staying low. I won’t get hurt.”

  “How do you know that?” Maggie’s voice showed frustration.

  Dave didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to let her in on that piece of information. He didn’t want her any more scared than she already was.

  “Because I know, Mags. Promise me that no matter what, you’ll get you and mom out of here? Promise me, Maggie!” His steady blue gaze begged her say the words, make the promise.

  “I promise.” Maggie sighed the words past her cold lips. No sooner had she spoken them when Dave’s lips came down hard and hot on her own. He kissed her with more passion than she’d ever felt in one single kiss in her entire life. She hadn’t even felt this kind of heat with Brad. The desperate nature of their situation created a fierce need inside of them that defied all other feelings at that moment.

  “Ahem…” Dave’s mom cleared her throat.

  Pulling apart, Dave dropped one last tender kiss on Maggie’s swollen lips. He helped her back inside the truck, then walked around to the passenger’s side.

  Lynda unrolled the window. In a raw and worried voice she said, “Be careful, David.” She kissed his forehead.

  “I will, mom. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back. Just stay put.” Dave chose not to tell his mom about the promise he’d secured from Maggie. He trusted her to do what he asked, save them both.

  Dave kissed his mom on the cheek and backed up. She rolled up the window. He turned and went to the toolbox. He reached in and grabbed his flashlight, just in case. He walked to the opening of the overpass and stopped. He looked around before trotting off quickly into the cornfield. Visions of his nightmare from the night before began to plague him. Dave prayed.

  Chapter 7

  Inside the cab, Maggie watched as Dave disappeared around the corner. She had a bad feeling about this, but didn’t know what else to do except wait.

  “He likes you” Lynda said as she watched her son in the rearview mirror. In a split second he was gone and her heart skipped a beat.

  Maggie didn’t know what to say so she said nothing.

  “I remember when Bill and I first met. He used to tease me something awful. I couldn’t stand him at first, but after a while, he grew on me. He sat behind me in biology. I remember Mrs. Bailey had us dissecting frogs, and Bill picked his up and made it dance. He kept trying to make me touch it, but all I could do was scream. I hate those nasty little suckers. The smell of formaldehyde made sick.” Lynda chuckled to herself.

  “His sense of humor didn’t end once we were married, either. On our honeymoon, I was so gosh dang nervous, all Bill could think to do was try and make me laugh. ‘Hey Lyndie, look!’ I looked up and there he was, naked as a jaybird, jumping around making “it” dance!”

  Maggie opened her mouth in shock and choked back a laugh.

  “He said ‘Go on, Lyndie, touch it. Remember the frog? You can call him Kermit!’ He looked so damn ridiculous I nearly peed myself laughing.” Lynda smiled through tears when she saw Maggie smothering a laugh. With a raw voice, she continued.

  “But it worked. I forgot about how nervous I was, and everything was alright from then on.”

  Maggie finally lost control and let out a peel of laughter. Lynda reached her arm around Maggie’s shoulders and laughed with her.

  “See? Even now, Bill can still work a room.”

  “You love him very much, don’t you?” asked Maggie softly.

  “Yes. I love him very much.” Lynda’s voice ended on a whisper.

  It grew quiet inside the cab. The only sound came from the wind outside. The clouds were getting thicker. It would snow again before long. They really needed to get going. Maggie wondered where Dave was and if he was okay.

  “I loved my fiancé” said Maggie.

  Lynda looked at the red-haired girl. She was really lovely. Her son couldn’t have picked a prettier one if he tried. She made Sherry look like ditch water.

  “You have a fiancé?”

  “Had. He died three weeks ago.”

  “What happened?” Lynda was curious, but felt a need to be delicate.

  “Car accident. Brad was on his way home. A big-rig ran right into him. The driver had fallen asleep at the wheel.” Maggie looked down at her hands. She no longer wore her engagement ring and she felt her hand looked odd without it.

&nbs
p; “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  “That’s how I came to be here. After the funeral, I sort of ran away. I’ve been just going from one town to the next” drinking his memory away. Maggie didn’t say this last out loud. She didn’t want Dave’s mom to think badly of her.

  “Well, God sure has some mysterious ways” said Lynda before they both lapsed back into silence. Both women resumed checking the rearview mirrors for signs of Dave.

  Shit on stick, it’s cold! Dave thought. He pushed carefully through the stalks of corn. Some still had a little green on them, but most were dead or dying, turning brown from the frost and snow.

  He could just barely make out the grain silo up ahead. Next to it was the feedlot. A waft of something foul passed his nose. Jesus! That reeks. The smell grew stronger with every step he took closer. It was rotten, fetid, and mixed with a sulfuric, rotten-egg smell. Dave pulled his t-shirt up over his nose trying to block out the odor. It was really disgusting. You’d expect to smell manure at a feedlot, but this wasn’t manure. It smelled like death.

  When he got to the edge of the field, he stopped and looked around. Dave tilted his head up to check the sky for any signs of bright lights. Nothing. He looked all around the grain silo and the building for any sign of people or, God forbid, shadows. He didn’t see anything. The pens were just beyond the industrial building. He’d have to get up to it and around to see if anything was on the other side. Taking a deep breath, Dave put his head down and ran as fast as he could across the open stretch. When he got to the back of building, he dropped down low.

  Dave kept his back to the building and looked left and right. The wind howled now, and tugged at his hat. He pulled the collar up on his jacket.

  He duck-walked slowly to the end of the building and peered around. Up the alley between the silo and the building there was an open area. Dave could see beyond to the cow pens. The smell was overwhelming and he gagged a little.

  Something was moving around in the pens. Probably cows, he thought, like the ones on the road back there. The weird thing was the silence. He didn’t hear a single moo.

  He inched closer. One step at a time brought him nearer to the possibility of discovery. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back and disappear into the crack of his ass. The wind cooled it quickly.

  Dave came up behind an old water pump. He stopped. The sound of machinery starting up made him freeze in place. Off to the left, a feed shoot began cranking. The movement in the pens increased and seemed to be heading towards the troughs under the end of the shoot. Dave felt a combination of fear and hope. The starting up of the machinery could mean people were around, but after what he’d seen fly over and hover above the lot, he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

  Dave debated whether or not to go a little further in. It seemed that only one reason mattered here; Dad. Pulling his cap low, he inched around the old water pump and got closer to the far end of the building.

  He made it to the corner and stopped. The smell coming from the direction of the feed shoot was making his eyes water, and his throat gag. He looked at the mush that was dropping out and into the troughs. It was dark red and lumpy. Fucking gross!

  As Dave tried to figure out what was being fed to these cows, he suddenly realized they weren’t cows. Pink, flesh colored skins caught his eyes which widened in horror.

  People! Bare-assed naked people were pushing each other aside to get to the troughs. They were stuffing the putrid feed into their mouths, gorging. Dark red liquid ran down their hands and faces, soaking their bodies, but that wasn’t what scared him the most. It was their eyes. Their eyes were bulging out of their sockets, looking vacant, looking like they saw nothing.

  They bumped into each other, so tightly packed together as they were. Another shoot, one that extended from the grain silo moved usually on an automated timer to shift and pour corn into the vat. The vat was attached to another building. The vat churned and pumped out more mush to the feed shoot. Several of the people were trampled underfoot. They lay there in human waste, groaning. The stench was killing Dave, but he couldn’t turn his eyes away.

  As he watched from the protection of the corner, dark shadows drifted towards the side of the pens. They were tall, well over eight feet. The description of a shadow had been fairly accurate after all. These dark, amorphous shapes lacked distinction and changed as they moved. The smell of sulfur mixed with the rotten, sickening smell of death surrounded them.

  The shadows pointed in the direction of the trampled bodies. A bright light engulfed the dead and dying forms, lifting them up and out of the pens. They floated above the heads of the others who didn’t seem to notice. One by one, the bodies were dropped into the vat. The vat continued to churn. Dark red, lumpy gristle continued to come out of the feed shoots. Vacant-eyed humans continued to gorge on the slop. The cycle continued before his horrified eyes.

  Dave now understood that the dark red slop was blood. The lumps; corn and body parts. The putrid smell was ground-up bodies. It was a death camp. People were being exterminated one by one, grotesquely, painfully.

  This is what had happened to his dad. This is what had happened to Red. It’s what had happened to everyone, everyone except for him, Maggie, and his mom.

  Tears fell down Dave’s face. Holy mother of God, protect us. Please. I don’t know what to do.

  Dave started to back up. He knew he needed to keep low. Something small caught his eye. In the far corner of the closest pen, a small child huddled down in the muck. All the other people were over by the troughs, but this tiny little boy, who looked to be all of four years of age, was trying to stay low and hide. His small face was covered in wet tears. His eyes looked around him wildly, but they weren’t vacant.

  Shit! Dave looked to see where the shadows had gone. He didn’t see them. He looked up, left, right, behind him. He was starting to feel paranoia overtake him. I can’t leave him. I can’t leave a kid in there.

  Dave knew he’d have to come out from behind his corner to get to the little boy. He didn’t like that at all. He remembered the heavy duty flashlight in his hand. He gripped it tighter. Don’t know if it will help or not. Can you hit a shadow? He thought wildly, trying to come up a plan. There wasn’t any time to formulate a good one. The people were starting to slow down on their feeding. Some had sat back down in the filth.

  “Lord, if you can hear me, please, please, help me get us all out of here safely. He’s just a little boy. Please, Lord.” Dave whispered his prayer heavenward. Lastly, he prayed for Godspeed before he dashed out and across the open lane to the fence line. He didn’t stop, running down the fence to the corner and around to the other side. The little boy spotted him as he ran up to the far corner where he sat. He stopped crying and reached his little arms up. Dave skidded to a halt, reached between the posts and pulled the little guy through sideways. He didn’t even stop and wonder how he got the strength to manually flip the kid and slide him through the beams of wood.

  The tot clung to Dave like a monkey. Dave wrapped his arms around him and retraced his path back to the corner where he’d been hiding.

  He was breathing hard from the sprint. Once they got to the side of the building, Dave tried wrapping his coat around the little boy to keep him as warm as possible for the run back through the cornfield. He didn’t have to worry about telling the boy to hang on because he was nearly strangling Dave’s neck.

  “Hey kid, I need you to be really quiet, okay?” The boy lifted his brown eyes and looked at Dave. He nodded his head and then tucked it back under Dave’s chin.

  The first few flakes of snow that had been threatening to fall from the storm-darkened clouds landed on top of the child’s head. Dave bent as low as could with his new burden and inched his way along to the backside of the building. The open area between the building and the edge of the cornfield was clear. Without hesitating another moment, Dave took off at a run, slipping once, but he righted himself with his free hand and kept on running. He slipped
through the first few rows of corn until he felt covered then slowed his pace. He didn’t want to cause too much of a disturbance in the stalks and draw attention to them.

  Halfway through the field, Dave looked up and saw a light streaking towards them. He hit the ground fast and bent his body over the little boy. Bright light lit up the field. It slowed and hovered over them. Shit! Goddammit!

  The light grew brighter and the smell of sulfur began to fill the space created by the light. Dave didn’t want to look up. He kept his head down, praying, trying to protect the boy.

  STAND! Dave heard a deep, guttural voice loud and clear, but he was sure it was inside his head, and not actually spoken.

  Fear gripped him as he uncurled his body and slowly stood up. Between the stench on the little boy from the filthy cow pen and the permeating odor of sulfur, Dave began to feel nauseous.

 

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