Killer Harvest

by Tanya Stowe

  “Is it far? Chekhov is behind us.”

  She started to look back but he grabbed her arm and dragged her forward. “Don’t stop. Just keep going. I’ll worry about him.” Nodding, she lunged forward. They’d kept their voices low, mainly for Keri’s sake. If she woke and began to cry... Jared didn’t want to think about what might happen. Sassa had one hand over the baby’s earmuffs, pressing her tiny head against her chest to keep it from bobbing back and forth. Her efforts seemed to be working.

  Once they entered the orchard, the taller trees blocked all light from the moon. The sudden shadows forced them to slow. The farther they traveled from the river, the denser the fog became. Twice, Sassa tripped and almost fell. The second time only Jared’s timely grab stopped her from tumbling to the ground with the baby in her arms.

  He held her back against him. Her breath came ragged and heavy. She trembled so violently, he wondered how she was staying on her feet at all. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her up, hoping to give her a moment of respite.

  “Take deep breaths,” he whispered in her ear.

  She nodded.

  “We need to be careful. If Keri cries, he’ll hear her and find us for sure.”

  She nodded again. Her soft, orange-blossom scent swept over him, making it hard to release her. He gave her waist one last, encouraging squeeze then pushed her forward.

  He paused to look behind them.

  A branch cracked. He waited, let Sassa move farther ahead. The mist was swirling. Moving back and forth like a living thing.

  Another crackle. Chekhov was close. Jared was sure of it.

  He pulled out his gun. Quietly releasing the lock, he aimed and waited. The mist ebbed and flowed.

  Suddenly it parted. Chekhov loomed less than thirty feet away. At first he appeared like a headless shadow. His blond hair and features blended into the fog, but his customary black clothing jumped out, making him an easy target.

  Jared must have been visible to him, too, because Chekhov halted in his footsteps. His face registered surprise. He swung his gun up.

  Jared fired. Chekhov’s shoulder jerked. But it didn’t stop the man from getting off a shot of his own. A piercing pain shot through Jared’s thigh and he tumbled to the ground. He fell sideways and watched as Chekhov retreated into the mist.

  * * *

  Two shots...almost simultaneous. One of them from a gun without a silencer... Jared’s gun. Sassa pressed Keri’s head tighter to her chest. She stopped running and looked back. Jared lay on the ground. She didn’t think or hesitate. She ran to his side.

  He struggled to his feet. Even in the shadows she could see the dark stain of blood on his leg.

  “What are you doing? Chekhov is right behind me.” His pain-filled whisper sounded harsh against the silence.

  Sassa looped his arm over her neck and pointed him in a different direction. “Let’s go this way.”

  “Leave me. I’ll slow you down too much.”

  “I’m not going without you, so move!”

  He grunted as he took the first step. He didn’t make another sound but Sassa felt him tense each time he step-hopped with his wounded leg.

  “I got him, Sassa. I got Chekhov.” His whisper sounded jagged. “I shot him in the shoulder. It slowed him down but didn’t stop him. He’s out there somewhere. You have to go on without me.”

  She shook her head. “There’s an abandoned farmhouse on the edge of this orchard. Lars and I used to sneak over there when we were kids. There’s a chute leading to the basement. The interior collapsed years ago creating a cubbyhole you can reach from the outside. It’s a perfect hiding place.”

  “All right. Take me there, but then you have to keep going.” He stepped wrong on his leg and stifled a cry of pain. She tried to slow down but he hopped on the bad leg and sped up. He made a small grunt of pain each time, but he kept going.

  At last the two-story farmhouse came into view. Surrounded by tall eucalyptus, it looked like a normal farm until they drew closer. The wood building was dark with rot, the windows and doors boarded over.

  Sassa sighed with relief and carefully hurried around the debris littering the ground near the house. On the opposite side of the building, loose boards covered a shaft. Sassa released Jared. He wavered on his feet but didn’t fall.

  She pulled and shoved the boards, careful to make as little sound as possible. Steps leading to the basement appeared but were cut off, sealed by a collapsed wall. She pulled more boards away to reveal a hollowed-out space. One corner remained, just enough room for one person.

  One person...or one person and a baby.

  Sassa knew what she had to do. Chekhov wanted her. She could hide Jared and Keri here and lead that maniac away.

  “Come on.” She helped Jared ease down. He lay back with a sigh of relief. Carefully unwrapping the blanket from around Keri, she folded it into a pad and pressed it against Jared’s wound then pulled his belt loose from around his waist and tightened it around the blanket pad. As she cinched it tight, he closed his eyes and suppressed a groan.

  Carefully, so as not to wake Keri, she unhooked the buckles of the carrier.

  “What are you doing?” Jared’s mutter was jagged.

  “It’s me Chekhov wants.”

  Grasping her wrist, he shook his head. “He’ll kill us and come after you anyway.”

  “Not if I lead him away.”

  “That’s crazy. You can’t do it.”

  Sassa carefully lay her daughter in Jared’s arms, slipped her sweatshirt off and covered them both with it. Then she leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were cool and felt so wonderful, for a moment she considered staying. She forced herself to push away and cupped his cheek.

  “We have no future together, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you, Jared De Luca, and I know you love my daughter. I trust you to take care of her for me.”

  Jared’s lips parted in surprise. “You love me... Wait. You can’t leave her. She needs you.”

  “If I don’t escape Chekhov, tell...tell Keri about me. I... I’d like her to see me through your eyes. I’d like that a lot.”

  He grasped her wrist. “I won’t let you do this, Sassa. Don’t leave!”

  She pulled loose with a jerk. Keri stirred and made a small sound, forcing Jared to quiet the baby or risk giving away their spot. She used his moment of distraction to step away.

  “Sassa...” He reached for her again but she avoided his grasp and placed the boards over the hole, covering the two most precious things in her life. Then she ran to the middle of the yard and waited.

  Her cheeks were cold. She touched them and found tears running down. Cold skin. Cold night. Cold, hard choices.

  In the distance, she heard sirens. Help was on its way. If only she could hold out long enough...

  She wiped her tears away. The fog swirled around her. She stood in the middle of the abandoned homestead’s clearing. Out in the open, she would make sure Chekhov saw her before she ran. The road was behind her. If she could lead him in that direction, she might reach it first. His injury might slow him long enough for her to flag down help.

  She heard a noise and froze. The fog whispered around the trees, amplifying and confusing sound so she wasn’t sure where it came from or even what it was. She stood frozen...uncertain.

  Then Chekhov marched out from nowhere; his dark clothes parting the gray mist as he came forward. He carried the gun in his left hand. Blood covered his right shoulder and ran down his hand.

  Sassa dashed to the edge of the clearing and glanced back. Chekhov followed her, never pausing to search for Jared and Keri. She exhaled in relief.

  Thank You, Lord. Take care of them both. I love them so much!

  She spun back, turned on the speed and zigzagged through the trees. She had to beat Chekhov to the road. She need
ed time to wave down a car.

  Without Keri’s weight to slow her, she ran fast. She was far ahead of Chekhov. She could hear him behind, crashing awkwardly through the leaves and broken branches, not even trying to cover the sounds of his approach. If she paused, she could even hear his uneven breathing. His injury was slowing him down. All she needed to do was to keep ahead of him.

  A large branch had broken loose from a tree and covered the path ahead. It blocked her view but she knew the road was just beyond. Exhilaration filled her.

  She ran around the branch and charged through the dead leaves...straight into a quarter section of the orchard where all the trees had been felled. Only short stumps remained. She had no cover and was visible to Chekhov...who even now crashed through the branches into the open.

  She spun and ran toward the road.

  “Stop! Stop there!”

  Chekhov’s voice was raspy and weak. Too weak. His injury was seriously impairing him.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

  She spun around. “You won’t kill me. You want the formula.”

  “No. You’re right. I won’t shoot you. I’ll go back to that farmhouse where you left your baby and Officer De Luca. I’ll shoot them. One bullet for both.”

  Sassa froze. He was guessing. He didn’t know where they were. He’d never find them.

  “They’re all tucked up, nice and cozy in that corner of the basement.”

  He knew exactly where they were. He must have seen her coming out of the shaft. Her hopes dropped and her strength sagged. Chekhov had her. Fear froze her legs as he marched across the open space. Closer and closer.

  By the silver light of the moon, she studied the face of the man who had murdered her friends and destroyed her life. His skin appeared even more pale and lifeless than that day at the airport when he’d murdered Sam. What was more, he had open wounds on his face and neck. A stench filtered toward her. She winced and turned away.

  “Yes. That smell is my flesh, rotting away. See what technology has done for me? I’m the poster child for progress.”

  “You’re the poster child for a psychopath.”

  “Sassy Sassa. Even now with a gun to your head.”

  Sassa winced and turned away.

  “Yes. I know what Sam called you. We had many conversations, he and I...before he turned against me. I tried to make him understand, tried to show him that what we do will make the world a better place.”

  “Thousands will die. How will that be better?”

  “Some will survive and they will build a better world. They will thank me.”

  “The world will call you a murderer just like I do.”

  He looked behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Headlights flashed down the road, coming their way.

  “We’re done talking. Cooperate. Take me to where Sam hid the formula or I’ll go back to that farmhouse.”

  “I don’t know where he hid it.”

  He shook his head. “Then you and I will go someplace far away so you can figure out the formula for me. But you have less than two minutes before that car arrives to decide if it’s worth your child’s life.”

  She glanced over her shoulder once more. The car was less than a mile away. She needed to get Chekhov away from Keri and Jared.

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  He pointed with the gun. “Very wise. Walk to the road.”

  Sassa turned around and hurried to the side of the paved road. Chekhov moved slower, but when she glanced back, the gun was still pointed toward her. It never wavered.

  He stopped and stood slightly behind her and to her right. He held the gun against her back with his left hand and made sure his bloody right hand was in clear view of the approaching vehicle. Then he nudged her into the road. They stepped out. The white truck came to a screeching halt. The headlights blinded them. The door opened and a man jumped out.

  “Has there been an accident?” The driver’s dark form came toward them. “Should I call an ambulance?”

  Chekhov stepped out from behind Sassa and held up his gun. “We’ll take the keys to your truck.”

  The man had stepped into the beam of the headlights. He halted in surprise and slowly raised his hands. “Sure man. Take the truck. Take it all. The keys are inside.”

  Chekhov raised the gun to aim at the man. Sassa stepped in front of him. “You’ll have to shoot me first.”

  Shaking his head, Chekhov motioned at the truck. “Get in before I’m tempted to go back to that house for the sheer pleasure of destroying you.”

  Sassa shook her head. “You don’t have time to go back. Hear those sirens? They’re getting closer as we speak. We need to go now or they’ll be on top of you.”

  He pointed the gun at the white truck. “Go. Get in. You’re driving.”

  She nodded and moved past the man. She met his frightened gaze and whispered, “The abandoned farmhouse. Help them.”

  The man frowned but gave her a slight nod. Chekhov climbed in the driver’s side and slid all the way across. Then he pointed her into the driver’s seat. “Climb in.”

  She stepped in, closed the door and shifted into gear. The owner of the truck was still standing in the middle of the roadway. Chekhov shoved his foot over and stomped on the gas. The truck shot toward the man. Sassa jerked the wheel to the left as the owner of the truck dove to the right. The truck headed for the ditch. For one moment, Sassa considered letting the truck pile into it.

  Even though she’d told Chekhov the sirens were close, they sounded too far away and the farmhouse was too close. If they crashed, Chekhov would have time to climb out and go back for Jared and Keri. She gripped the wheel and wrestled the truck back onto the road and jammed on the gas.

  In the rearview mirror, she saw blue flashing lights in the sky, still too far away to help. Gripping the wheel, she faced forward.

  NINE

  Jared wanted to howl. He could have yelled loud enough to shout down the rest of the derelict building. He pushed against the boards, but they didn’t budge. The baby stirred in his arms, so he paused and cuddled her close.

  In that moment, he heard footsteps. He held his breath. Chekhov was close. He and Keri were easy targets, trapped in this cubbyhole beneath the wood.

  He held his breath and prayed. The footsteps passed over them but it was a long while before he released his breath. When he finally exhaled, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to the top of little Keri’s head. She was safe but Sassa was out there...facing that madman alone while he...he lay here wounded and aching and helpless. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move.

  Once again he’d failed.

  Jared gritted his teeth to prevent his anguish from slipping past his lips. Pain racked his body and disgust filled his being.

  Then the baby shifted and sighed. Her soft breath brushed against his neck. The pulse of that breath was warm and so very light. So very fragile.

  Take care of my daughter. Let her see me through your eyes. I’d like that.

  Sassa’s words reverberated through him. She had entrusted him with the most precious thing in her life. That she would do that astounded him. Humbled him. Left him reeling and shaking.

  Sassa loved him. Truly loved him.

  He’d been a fool. All the bickering, the snappy comebacks and the put-offs, all of those mechanisms were designed to protect her tender heart. He knew that about her. Understood them and yet he’d failed to comprehend their full meaning.

  She loved him.

  Yes, she irritated him and constantly challenged him. Yes, she made him face things he’d rather leave buried. But she also showed him how to love deeply, fiercely and unconditionally.

  Her confrontational kind of love also helped him heal. Showered in Sassa’s love, he’d forgotten Jessica and found deeply hidden memories of his mother. Good memories that would
be the tools to help him heal and maybe forgive the woman who bore him.

  Sassa had showed him so much and given him everything he needed...and she’d just walked into the hands of a madman while he lay helpless and powerless.

  Despair threatened. Made him want to howl again. But Keri stirred in his arms. She sensed her mother’s absence. Once again, he marveled at their mother-daughter connection and their unconditional love, yet another important marker in his life. He could have been a part of that...should have been. But now it was too late.

  Still, Sassa had left Keri in his care. He couldn’t ignore that gift. He had to protect her, had to get her to safety...both of them to safety.

  But he was too weak to move. Too light-headed to think clearly.

  As he lay helpless and defeated, his grandfather’s scriptures came to mind.

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me....

  God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble...

  The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous runneth into it, and is safe...

  When work in the fields was tough going on Grandad’s aging body, he said those words over and over again...almost sang them in praise. When they watched the news and heard about some tragic event, the scriptures flowed out of his grandfather as if they were a balm that would ease the world’s pain. Prayer came to Grandad as easy as his breath. Now they eased out of Jared in the same way.

  All along, he’d doubted God’s presence in his life and yet the Lord had repeatedly showed him the way, led him to this one woman. This one moment in his life.

  The policeman he wanted to emulate. His grandfather who taught him about God and how to love. Jessica who showed him what he didn’t want. Even the job he thought as low profile had been a marker, pointing the way. If he had not been at that station in Riverside, he never would have met Sam, never received his message and never met Sassa.