Reap (The Harvest Saga Book 1)

by Casey L. Bond

  He pushed himself up and turned toward me. “Get up.”

  His hair hung in greasy strings over his forehead. Chunks of dinner still dangled between his teeth, though I wasn’t sure if it was from tonight’s or one earlier in the week. He grabbed my elbow roughly and jerked me down the hallway. No freaking way I’m going into his bedroom.

  “No.” I planted my feet, but he jerked me forward another foot.

  “Come. On,” he grunted, jerking me again. I lost another foot to him.

  “No!” I yelled. “I’m not going in there with you.”

  All of the sudden, he loosened his grip and laughed. “You could never satisfy the needs of a man like me. Don’t flatter yourself, Abigail Kelley. You’ll be staying in here tonight. My orders were simply to collect you. For now.”

  He jerked me into a bedroom. A dirty mattress lay on the floor beneath a candle holder on the wall. There was a small, white ceramic pitcher in the corner and a matching empty plate next to it. “Get on the mattress.”

  I sat down on the lumpy rectangle and crossed my legs. Norris clamped his big paw around my forearm and then clapped an iron manacle around my wrist. It was attached to a chain that had been drilled and affixed to the wall itself. It was just long enough that I could step a few feet away from the mattress itself, and so that I could reach the pitcher and plate. I noticed a small metal bucket in the other corner and it looked like I could reach it, too.

  “Water is in the pitcher. I’ll bring you bread at daybreak. You can use the bucket for your personal needs.” He smirked at me and I wanted to rip the chain out of the wall, wrap it around his neck and squeeze the life out of his smug face.

  He laughed as he stepped outside the room. I heard the distinct sound of a key turning the lock on my door. My cell.

  ∞

  SOMETIME IN THE NIGHT, OR morning, I’d fallen asleep on the dirty mattress. I sat up and stretched my back from the discomfort of that small lumpy mat. The smell of musk and mold wafted up from it, and now I realized that having slept on it, I smelled like that dirty mattress, too. Gross. Norris did not return at dawn. The biggest part of me was thankful. But, a small part was starving and scared. The fear of the unknown was causing my mind to run wild.

  Near midday, I heard him and his evil beast of a horse approach and rustle around outside the cabin. Then I heard another voice. Councilman Preston was here. The front door opened and closed again before two sets of footsteps echoed down the hall, pausing in front of my door. I could hear the key being inserted into and twisting in the lock. Slowly, the wooden door creaked open. I should have lay down and pretended to sleep. But, instead, stare wide eyed at the two pathetic excuses for men in front of me.

  The Councilman’s eyes were blue. Not as icy as Zander’s, but not a deep blue either. They fixated on me. “You’ve caused quite a few problems for me lately, Abigail.” He paced the dirty floor in front of me. “How dare you accuse me, speak to me, in public! Do you know the trouble you’ve caused?” His face contorted in rage and reddened with each harsh breath he drew. “You humiliated Zander. We welcomed you into our family with open arms and you repay me by dragging me in front of the Council?”

  I kept quiet, damn near chewing my tongue to keep from letting loose on him.

  “Bring it in,” he yelled into the house. Someone else was here.

  Mrs. Preston stepped into the room holding a white mass of fabric that bubbled up out of her arms. Seriously? The wedding dress. Are they still going to try to make me marry their son?

  She smiled tightly.

  “Clean her up. Get her dressed.” He barked.

  Mrs. Alyce Preston accepted a small key, nodded compliantly and watched as her husband stepped out of the room with Norris following behind like a lost pup.

  She hung the gown on one of the wrought iron sconces and then moved forward. Without comment, she used the key to remove my restraint. Relief coursed through my wrist. I rubbed it, calming the itchy skin that had lay beneath. The iron was hard, tight, and unyielding and my skin screamed from the fresh air that assaulted it. Pitcher in hand, she stuck her hand in and pulled out a small cloth.

  “Wash your face.” Her voice cracked. I grabbed the cloth from her and scrub. “Now the rest of you.” I washed my neck and chest, pushed my sleeves up and wash my arms. She nodded her approval and took the cloth back, throwing it into the pitcher again. Her hair was perfectly knotted at the nape of her neck, as usual. She pulled out a small comb from her pocket and motioned for me to turn around, before she began to comb my hair.

  “Why are you dressing me up?”

  Silence.

  “Please. Why are you doing this? I don’t want to marry Zander. He would be miserable, too. Don’t you get it?”

  “You won’t be marrying Zander, today.”

  “Then why all of this?” Her eyes hardened.

  “You’ve caused a lot of problems for my husband and family.” She jerked the comb through my hair hard. Tears sprang into my eyes from the assault. She ignored my pleas and braided my hair, pinning it up in silence. Tears had streaked down my face and splashed onto the legs of my pajamas.

  “Get up and undress.”

  I sat still. “Why should I?”

  “Do it,” she leaned in to face me. “Or, I’ll see that Norris does it.”

  I undressed and stood in front of her covered only by my bra and panties. She released the gown from its hanger. It’s tulle fabric stretched over only one shoulder, gathered tightly at the waist and then cascaded down the full skirt in a thick, rich flow of fabric so full, I couldn’t imagine holding it up, much less walking in it. She lifted the gown and I folded my hands as though I was swan diving and sank into the fabric as it was pulled over my head. It was made to fit my every curve.

  For a moment, I allowed myself to daydream. I thought of the Harvest Festival, of all of the beautifully adorned couples. The girls would wear dresses of every shade of the rainbow, hair curled or braided. The guys would be dressed sharply in crisp, dark suits, their hair slicked back. Music would pour from speakers and the couples would swirl and twirl in the evening air by the light of thousands of candles made for just this event.

  I could see Crew walking toward me. I would be wearing this gown. Laney would have let me use some of her makeup and my skin would be glowing beautifully in the candlelight. His skin would be flawless and pale, contrasting with his dark hair. His jaw would be freshly shaven, and he would smell of spice and Crew. His hands would encircle my waist and pull me in as his lips closed in on mine...

  Mrs. Preston slammed the door behind her as she exited, ripping me from my fantasy. A moment later, Norris entered and jerked me out of the room, down the hall and out onto the porch. A long piece of rope hung from the tree just out front to the right, its end formed into a noose. I shivered. This is how it ends. Zander stood on the porch facing me, his hands tucked into his suit pockets. His eyes were cold, icy as ever. His lips formed a snarl.

  “Come on, girl.” His dark eyes glittered as he led me over to the rope. Goosebumps spread over my skin and it wasn’t because of the chill in the air. Leaves crunched underfoot with each step I took toward that serpent of rope that was waiting for me.

  I thought of Crew’s smile, of Kyan sticking his finger in my pie just last night, of Laney always trying to make me over into something beautiful. I remember the warmth of Lulu’s eyes and arms. How she would kiss my boo-boos and comfort me with warm tea afterwards. I imagined her brave as she met her end. Lulu was strong. Always a rock beneath the soft façade.

  I squared my shoulders and stepped forward with purpose. If this was how it ended, I would be dignified. I could be strong like Lulu. I stepped beneath the rope which was now swaying in the soft breeze. Norris grabbed my arms and tied the coarse, thin rope around my wrists. It cut my skin as it dug in tighter and tighter still. He grabbed my chin and pinched it as he slid the noose over my head and tightened it around my neck. The coarse fibers cut into my neck, while the
rope that bound my hands behind me bit further into my wrists.

  He moved toward the tree and motioned for Zander. “Pull this. Not too tight, but not too loose. Just make sure it doesn’t fall off the branch.”

  Zander nodded, holding the end of my hanging rope. Cocky bastard. I could knock the smile right off of his...

  Crack! NO! I twisted around. Norris stood behind me. The whip cracked loudly again as Councilman and Mrs. Preston looked on from the porch. “Wouldn’t want to get your hands dirty, Councilman!” I screamed.

  “We found some damning evidence in your cabin while we were searching for you the other night, Miss Kelley. You are being charged with Treason. Treason against our village and against the Greaters.

  Crack! Searing pain shot across my back. “You’re a liar! And a murderer. We all know what you’re trying to cover up. Good luck with that. Don’t you think people will wonder what happened? Don’t you think it’s obvious that you’re getting rid of me for standing up to you? People aren’t stupid, Councilman. They’ll figure this out quick!”

  Slash! “Why didn’t you sell tickets? Set me up at the Harvest Festival?”

  Another slash bit my left shoulder and tore its way down toward my right hip. “Want a turn, Mrs. Preston?” Another slice. I could feel blood seeping into the delicate fabric wrapped around me. The warmth of my lifeblood cooled when it met the evening air, comforting my skin until another crack of the whip lit it on fire again.

  “You’re cowards! You killed her! I know you did! You...AAAHHH!” My body slumped forward. My shoulder was on fire. I looked back toward Norris and he caught the back of my neck. I couldn’t stand up. I tried to shuffle my feet, but he quickened his assault, slashing me from neck to buttocks. The delicate fabric of the gown, stained crimson, fluttered helplessly in the wind, like a wounded bird, trying to fly away. To escape.

  Soon, my knees buckled. I felt the noose clench tight on my throat just before darkness swarmed into my eyes, clouding my vision.

  “ABBY BLUE!” LULU RUNS TOWARD me and throws her arms around me and tackles me to the ground. Leaves crunch beneath us. “Lulu?”

  She nods excitedly. “Is it really you?”

  “Of course, silly. Who else would it be?”

  “But...”

  “Shh. I had to come see you. When I heard you were coming, I wanted to make sure I was here.”

  “I miss you so much!” She hugs me tight.

  “I miss you, too, Abigail.”

  I hold her for a long moment, savoring how she feels in my arms. She smells like she’s been baking. Sugar and flour, and just sweet.

  “Oh, sweetie. I wish you could stay with me.”

  “I want to stay with you, Lulu.”

  She pinches her lips into a smile. “You can’t. It’s not your time. You have to go back and finish this.”

  “Finish what?”

  “You’re going to have quite an adventure, Abby. Don’t be stubborn or prideful. Follow your heart.”

  “My heart? What are you talking about?” She laughs.

  She pulls me to my feet and hugs me again and kisses my cheek softly. “Follow your heart. Don’t forget.”

  Suddenly, Lulu begins to fade away, becoming less and less against the brilliance of the fall backdrop around us. “Lulu?”

  “Lulu!?” I scream frantically as she fades completely away.

  ∞

  “OH, NO. OH, GOD. ABBY? Abby Blue, don’t you leave me!” Kyan. What was he saying? Everything was so fuzzy.

  “Cut her down.” Crew?

  Everything was black and cold. I wanted to go back to Lulu. It was so warm and nice with her. Something tasted funny. Bad. I remembered this taste. It was coppery and salty. Blood. My blood.

  I heard a groan. What is going on?

  “Bind them and lead them into town, now!” Councilman Ward? Bastard. Sided with the devil and didn’t even know it. Or, maybe he did. I didn’t know. Whatever.

  I inhaled sharply. Pain washed over my body. I was dying. Or dead. I hurt. Pressure released from around my throat and neck. Someone was trying to lift me up and someone else was sawing at my wrists. No. Are they cutting my hands off?

  “No!” I tried to scream, but it came out raspy and strange.

  “Don’t cut...hands...off... NO!!!”

  “Shh. Abby, it’s Ky. We aren’t cutting your hands off. Your wrists are bound by a rope above your head. Crew is just trying to saw the rope in two. The bastards have some sort of knot that we can’t loosen from the ground.”

  I groaned again. It hurt so damn bad. My wrists screamed. My back was on fire. My legs were jelly, they just wouldn’t work. “Help me.”

  “Shh. Evelyn’s coming.” My wrists dropped and fell heavily down and relief washed for me for a moment. I heard footsteps rushing toward me. “Oh my...”

  Evelyn. “Get her inside on a mattress now!”

  “Evelyn?” I croaked.

  “I’m here Abby. Be gentle, but hurry Kyan. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “Just let me go back. Lulu…”

  ∞

  “OHH.” THAT WAS MY VOICE. My entire body hurt.

  “Abby!” I felt a weight on the mattress beside me.

  “Ky?”

  “It’s me. I’m here.”

  “Ky?” I whimpered. I was so afraid.

  “Shh. I’m here. Crew’s here, too. Laney just left to help her mom with something but she’ll be back soon.”

  “Where am I?”

  He cleared his throat. “You’re at Norris’s cabin.”

  “No!”

  “Shh. He isn’t here. It’s just us. Crew’s parents and Evelyn are in the kitchen.

  “I need water.” I felt like my tongue was made out of sandpaper. I tried to find moisture in my mouth, but come up dry.

  I heard footsteps leave the room and two sets return.

  “Abby?” Evelyn said.

  “Water.” I croaked.

  “Okay. We can give you a drink.” She positioned a small porcelain tea cup by my mouth and I managed a few drinks, though more fell onto the blanket below me than actually found purchase on my tongue.

  “What happened?”

  She felt my forehead. “No fever. Abby, do you remember Norris bringing you here?”

  What? Flashes filled my head. The black horse, the black night, the knife cutting into my stomach, being chained to the wall, Mrs. Preston braiding my hair and helping me get into the dress, Zander holding a rope, the noose I had been sure was meant for my neck, the rope biting into my wrists just before the whip did, the awful cracking noise, followed by that of my flesh being torn from my body, the hot pain, Lulu.

  “Lulu. I saw her.”

  “Sweetie, do you remember what happened to you? Lulu is dead. You didn’t see her. Mr. Preston had you beaten to within an inch of your life.”

  I nodded. “I remember it all. But, I saw her. I talked to her. Hugged her.”

  Evelyn crouched down so that I could see her face. Concern wrinkled the skin around eyes that found mine. “I did. I wanted to stay with her.”

  “Well, I’m glad you came back to us, Abigail.”

  I drifted off to sleep again, my last thought of hoping to find Lulu again.

  ∞

  WHISPERED WORDS FLOATED INTO MY ears and at first, I thought I was dreaming. Then I heard Crew. Then his father.

  “You need to make a decision. The harvest will happen.”

  Harvest? We finished. Didn’t we?

  “I know, Father.”

  “If she is your choice, you need to tell her. She won’t like having been lied to. I doubt she will accept you when she finds out.”

  “I know.” Crew said, sounding exasperated.

  “Guthrie is here with the healing balm.”

  “Thank you. I don’t know how to thank you, father.”

  Silence.

  “Make your decision final. That is how you can thank me. You must decide before she goes into the program, or you won’t get
the opportunity. If you do not select her, then she will go in anyway. Once she’s in, it’s final, though. No pulling her out of it. You understand?”

  To whom is he lying? What decision does he need to make? What program?

  “Very well. I will send Guthrie in now. She should be healed by week’s end and we can proceed.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The door to my room opened and closed. I was so sore from having lain on my stomach so long. I wished I could stand and stretch, but Evelyn had advised against it. I turned my head and see Evelyn and a very rotund man, entered the room. His hair was stark white and he wore thin, eyeglasses made of silver wire, an intricate design situated at each corner. The man’s cheeks were red and he used a small white cloth to wipe sweat from his brow, upper lip, and neck. His shirt was white and crisp, his pants creased perfectly down the center of each leg. Evelyn moved a chair to the side of my bed and the man seated himself in it and opened a small leather case, removing a metallic jar from inside.

  Evelyn sat beside me on the bed and even the small change in position made my back scream in protest. She leaned down to my ear. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “Abigail, this is Mr. Guthrie. He’s here to help your wounds. He has come all the way from Olympus and just arrived by train this morning.”

  Olympus? Why would Olympus send someone to help me? I’m a Lesser. We were completely expendable to the Greaters. Weren’t we?

  Evelyn must have sensed my thoughts, because she continued. “Councilman Cole sent word to the Greater city about the events that unfolded regarding your injury and of the corruption of the former Councilman Preston. The city leaders sent Mr. Guthrie to remedy your injuries in an attempt to show its support of our village and encourage its healing as well.”