The Reaping Season (The Reaper Chronicles Book 3)

by Apryl Baker

  And tonight that fear is niggling at the back of his mind, not a good thing to happen when he’s about to go through with a major operation. Things go sideways when you’re spooked, and he has to push his fear aside. His men deserve one hundred percent of his focus and not an old childhood fear getting in the way.

  Thank God for the specialized night vision goggles they’re wearing that allow them to see heat signatures as well. There will be no shooting members of their own team. The Army supplies its units well.

  He motions for his team to move out, spreading themselves apart through the woods in a semi-circle formation, and inch forward. This vampire will be put down if it means the entire team dies, including him. It has Ella’s scent, and despite what anyone thinks, he will protect his daughter at all costs. She’s his flesh and blood. And that means more to him than anything else.

  They’re prepared this time. They all drank dead man’s blood. The monster won’t get in their heads.

  Creeping forward, they make their way to the fence line. It took a lot of digging and some covert surveillance to find this place, but they know it lives here now. The sheriff’s deputy needs to learn to keep his mouth shut in public places. He gave them the location without even realizing it.

  It all boils down to a local legend. He’s not sure why this thing has been allowed to live and continue to kill for countless years, but it ends now.

  “Major, the location is in range.” Corporal Steve Fowler sidles up beside him. “Sir, it’s…”

  “It’s what, Corporal?”

  “Creepy.” He hands over the iPad, and Henry understands the word. There’s what looks to be a clearing of sorts with a bench. The whole area appears well maintained. Trees surround the meadow. It’s odd to have that here in the middle of the forest.

  “Creepy or not, we have a job to do.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They enter the gate and slowly make their way to the meadow, alert for any movement. Crouched low, they maintain formation and steadily go forward.

  Laughter fills the air around them. Creepy, ominous laughter.

  Henry’s eyes stalk the darkness, looking for anything out of the ordinary. A vampire won’t give off a heat signal, so he has to rely on the night vision to find anything out of place. They need all the advantages they can get to take this monster down.

  “Did you hear that, sir?” Corporal Fowler whispers.

  He had. It sounded like tiny feet moving through the woods to their right. Almost like children running. That can’t be right, though.

  “You have brought me a feast, Major Henry Banks.” The raspy voice is right in his ear, but by the way the entire team goes tense, they all heard it. How does the thing know his name?

  “You think dead man’s blood does anything against me? Foolish.”

  “Sir?” The corporal looks around nervously.

  “Hold your positions,” he commands, knowing the earpieces the entire team wears will pick it up.

  They’re out in the open with no cover. He’s worried. If it’s true about the dead man’s blood, then this just got harder.

  Branches break to his right, and he swivels his head in that direction.

  Nothing. Only the ghostly green hue of the night vision goggles.

  Where is the thing?

  This whole scene reminds him of that movie Silver Bullet and the part where the townspeople went hunting for the werewolf. It was creepy just like it is now. They’re all out looking for the monster, ready to shoot. He hopes this doesn’t end up the same way as it did in the movie.

  “Don’t you want to show yourself?” he calls out, hoping to goad it into coming into the open. Their guns are equipped with special bullets coated with holy water. If they put enough of them into it, it might bring it down long enough for them to take its head. That’s the plan. It’s the only plan they have.

  There’s a gust of wind and then a whoosh.

  “Sarge?” one of his men calls out. “Sarge is gone!”

  A scream breaks the quiet stillness.

  “Hold your positions!” Henry barks. His gun comes up. He looks around, listening.

  The darkness deepens around him, despite his goggles. It presses against him like a physical entity. The fog thickens, and that old fear spindles out, cracking the windowpane of his courage.

  Another whoosh of air and more screaming.

  “Major?” Corporal Fowler sounds scared.

  “Open fire!”

  He holds up his submachine gun and starts firing into the darkened woods, spraying upward, well aware the thing could be in the trees.

  More screams ring out as his men are pulled from the ground and thrown into the mist. The gurgle of death is all around him.

  “I told you the blood wouldn’t work, Major.” He’s picked up and pulled away from the circle of his men. “You shouldn’t have come hunting in my playground. Your men will be food for my children.”

  Henry is dropped into the trees, landing so hard it knocks the breath out of him. He lies there for a heartbeat, unable to breathe as the darkness clings to him like a lover. He takes great gulps of air into his lungs and sits up, warily searching the trees for the threat.

  What children?

  Is there a nest here?

  Shiny red eyes blink at him. Dozens upon dozens come out of the darkness. They giggle and move toward him. He scoots back and raises his gun, but he doesn’t have it anymore. It must have fallen when the creature picked him up.

  Screams ring out all around him.

  His men.

  The red eyes double and creep at him.

  There’s a sharp sting on his thigh, and he looks down to see something he can’t explain. Black, leathery skin. Red eyes. A face that looks human, but it’s not. Tufts of blonde hair cover its body in patches. What is it?

  It giggles right before it bites him. The sting is sharp enough to snap him out of his funk, and he shakes it off, scrambling backward until his back meets a tree. He uses it to maneuver himself up and he takes a few precious seconds to catch his breath before he breaks out in a run.

  His men are dying. He has to help them.

  He hits the tree line, but the sounds of gunfire have stopped.

  There are no men left standing.

  Where are they?

  “I told you, Henry. You gave me a feast tonight. Me and my children.”

  Henry looks back to see the number of red eyes hasn’t just tripled, but there are hundreds of them. They rush out of the tree line and hit the meadow.

  Razor-sharp claws rake at him, stabbing him, biting.

  Eating.

  His knee buckles, and he falls.

  They swarm him in an instant, hundreds of tiny mouths latching on. Ripping, tearing.

  “Stop.”

  “Why are you back?”

  “You can’t have him.”

  “He entered out territory. He’s ours.”

  “He belongs to me. The others, you can have, but not him. You’ve fed enough for The Reaping Season to be over, have you not?”

  “Why is this human important to you?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  The mouths are removed from him, but the pain doesn’t lessen.

  “Throw him to me.”

  The creature laughs. “You do not wish to come in here and face my children?”

  “I’m not stupid, but then, neither are you. You know my mother would be here faster than you or I could blink. She would murder you all with the snap of her fingers.”

  Hissing invades his ears, but he’s lifted and thrown out of the meadow.

  “Take your human and go, creature.”

  Henry looks up into the face of a young woman. She frowns. “You need medical attention.”

  “My men,” he manages to gasp.

  “Your men are dead.” A man comes into his field of view and picks him up as if he weighs nothing. “You’ll soon join them if we don’t get you to the hospital.”

  He blinks, shakes
his head, and before he can say anything else, he blacks out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Eli

  Day 9

  11:43 a.m.

  The Wolves’ Compound

  “How is she?”

  Gramps shambles in with a cup of coffee and a bag of food. He’s been here alongside me for the last few days. Mrs. B would have been here, but as Gramps said, it would look suspicious if she were here instead of at Rose Hill where everyone thinks Ella is. We worked too hard to keep her safe to have her mother blow her cover. She knows we’re right, but it goes against everything she is to not be by her daughter’s side.

  Hattie takes the food from Gramps and seats herself at the small table in the room. “Her breathing has improved.”

  “Is she going to wake up, Hattie?”

  “When she first came, I would have said no.” The little black woman takes a sip of her coffee. “Her physical wounds healed well enough, but there was a good chunk of her soul missing. It had to knit itself back together. I didn’t have much hope, but something shifted last night. Her breathing improved, her fever broke, and her color came back. I think having the pack pile around her for a few hours helped. The healing energy they give off is tremendous. I think she’s going to be fine, and I think she’ll wake up soon.”

  I collapse in a chair from sheer relief. I know Mattie said she’d be fine, but she’s been unconscious for five days. I was starting to really worry.

  “She’s going to be very weak for a while. Her soul still has a long way to go to replenish itself. I’ve never seen a wound like hers in all my days. You said it was creatures that did this?”

  I nod. “They were maybe a foot tall, if that much. Dozens upon dozens of them swarmed her like a pack of rats. I couldn’t pull them off fast enough.”

  “You saved her, Guardian.” Hattie pats my shoulder. “If not for you, she would have died.”

  If not for Mattie, she would have died, but I promised Dan I’d keep him and his wife out of this.

  Wife.

  It hurts to call her that, but I’ve decided I’m not going to begrudge either of them their happiness. They make sense. I knew it the moment I saw them together. I just didn’t want to admit it.

  I told Gramps everything, though. He understands why we can’t tell anyone about Dan and Mattie.

  “These creatures need to be dealt with.” Hattie takes a bite out of her pastry.

  “They can’t be dealt with.”

  All our heads turn to see another elderly woman shuffle into the room. I swear she could be a hundred if she’s a day. Long, flowing white hair trails down her dress covered in tiny flowers. She reminds me of my grandmother. Her blue eyes are sharp as she regards us.

  “Elder Roberts, what are you doing here?” Hattie jumps up and offers her chair to the woman.

  She ignores Hattie and goes to stand by Ella’s bed. “She will survive?”

  “She will.”

  “Come, sit with me.” She gestures us to the small table. Gramps and I wave the women to the chairs, and we sit on Ella’s bed.

  Elder Roberts looks tired, like she hasn’t slept in days. Maybe she hasn’t, given all the deaths.

  “Philip came to see me, begged me to talk to you. Maybe if I had, this wouldn’t have happened. She wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Ella is special. Only two others like her exist in the world.”

  “Two?” I ask. “I only know of one other.”

  Eulah smiles. “The Crane girl’s father is a living reaper as well, but he rarely uses his gift. He ignores it, for the most part.”

  I didn’t know that. I don’t think any Hunter knows that.

  “My point is, there hasn’t been a living reaper on this Earth for hundreds of years, and we are lucky enough to have three in our time. We should protect this child with everything we have, not put her in danger.”

  “If we had known what The Reaping Season was and why it’s been allowed to continue, then no, she wouldn’t have been there. Those creatures wouldn’t have touched her.”

  Hattie glares at me for snarking at the elder, but tough. If she’d answered Ethan’s questions, none of this would have happened.

  “I should have known Ethan wouldn’t leave it alone. That boy has asked questions about it since he was old enough to understand. I was trying to protect us in not answering those questions. Especially now with the Army in town.”

  “Lot of good that did.”

  It’s Gramps’ turn to glare. Yeah, yeah, no need to drive the guilt nail in the coffin.

  “I just came back from a meeting with at the base with the Major and several of his superiors. They understand what the creature is and that it can’t be put down. They now know about the pact, and thanks to the major, he was able to verify why that agreement must stay in place. The Army will go nowhere near the fence line, and they will not interfere in our coverup.”

  That is not going to fly with Ella, but there’s not much else we can do.

  “At least The Reaping Season is over for now.” Gramps rolls his shoulders. “The deaths of the soldiers satisfied the remainder of the deaths needed to fulfil the pact.”

  “Are we sure?”

  “Yes. The pact specifically says it can’t feed on more than fourteen souls.”

  “I don’t like this. I hate there’s nothing we can do to stop it.” The hunter in me is demanding action.

  “If we allow you to kill the ancient, then those things are free to roam the world, killing innocent victims everywhere. Our town would be dead in a matter of hours. That is how hungry they always are, Eli. I wish it were otherwise, but this is our burden to bear, and bear it, we must. Maybe one day we can find a way to rid ourselves of the monsters, but until then, we are their keepers.”

  “This is so wrong, Gramps.”

  “I know it is, Eli, but I suspected the creatures you told me of were the same that killed my father. Elder Roberts confirmed it, and I know better than anyone, they can’t be stopped. The town agreed to this sacrifice a long time ago, and it must be honored.”

  Elder Roberts stands. “Hattie, can you put together some of tea to help me sleep? I need to rest and come up with a plan to let our people know the truth. If I told the Army, then the town deserves to know as well.”

  “That’s a good first step. If more people understood, then maybe there would be fewer deaths.” Gramps nods his approval.

  Once the women leave, I ask Gramps the question that is now burning away in my mind. “How did your father die?”

  “When I was a boy, an Angel showed up at our home to inform me and my mother that my father had died in battle against the creatures you described. Probably not those specific ones, but others like them. He explained to me that some creatures are too strong even for the light. All that can be done is to try to contain them, so they don’t hurt others.”

  “Like they did with the meadow.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then there’s nothing we can do to stop them?”

  “Eli?”

  My head snaps around to see her big green eyes open and blinking wildly. How long has she been awake?

  She tries to sit up, but she’s too weak. Gramps helps her up while I run to the door and holler for Hattie.

  “Those things…” Ella breaks off in a fit of coughing, and Gramps helps her to sip some water from one of the bottles sitting beside the bed.

  Hattie hurries in and waves him off so she can check Ella, who has latched on to my hand and refuses to let go. She’s looking around, unsure of where she is.

  For the next ten minutes, Hattie takes her through a series of tests and questions, most of which are the same as the questions doctors at the hospital would have asked her. The whole time, she sips on her water and looks so small. Fragile. Breakable.

  I have to be more cognizant of where I let her go, which investigations she gets involved in. Things like this are gonna be a hard no from now on. Elder Roberts was right about one thing. Ella’s special. She needs to
be cared for. A lot better than I have been.

  Once Hattie declares her on the mend, Gramps and I move in. I hug her first, and he grabs her second. “You have to stop doing this, Ella Grace. You’re going to give your old grandpa a heart attack.”

  “The creatures…” She coughs again. “We have to do something.”

  “We can’t do anything, Ella.”

  “We have to,” she stresses. “They pose as children, and they do something to your head. I remember it in vivid detail. They eat your body, and you can’t do anything to stop them. I registered the pain, but all I wanted to do was have a tea party. We can’t let them hurt any more people.”

  “A lot’s happened while you’ve been snoozing, Shortcake.”

  “Hattie, can you go and call Ella’s mother to let her know she’s awake?” Gramps asks.

  “Oh, of course. I’ll get her a bowl of broth too.”

  “Maybe we should wait on that, give the water time to settle first.”

  “Marco McGreggor, if you want me to leave, then tell me to leave.” Hattie wags her finger at him. “I’m not a stupid woman, and I know when you’re trying to get me out of a room.”

  He winces but acknowledges she’s right. “Can we have a little alone time with our girl, here? We need to tell her about a few things.”

  “Of course, but she needs to eat. I’ll put the broth on warm. Send the youngin’ out when she’s hungry.”

  “Thank you, Hattie.”

  She snorts and goes out of the room. Gramps walks over, locks the door, and says something. Probably casting a silence enchantment, as he calls them. Ensures no one can hear what we’re saying.

  “What’s going on, Eli? How long have I been out?”