Harvester of Light Trilogy (Boxed Set)

by S. J. West

  “Stop the car,” I told Walsh.

  He immediately did as I asked without asking any questions.

  Standing in front of one of the homes was Simon. But he disappeared before I could open the car door to go talk with him.

  “Is everything all right?” Walsh asked, having not seen what I saw.

  “Yeah,” I said, not understanding why Simon would appear just to vanish into thin air again. “Keep going.”

  I continued to look out the window and seemed to be haunted by brief glimpses of Rose and Simon. One after the other they would appear and disappear before I could even blink my eyes. What were they doing? Trying to drive me insane? If that was their agenda, they were sorely mistaken in their judgment of my reaction because it was only making me angry. I felt like they were playing with me, taunting me with their power.

  Finally, Walsh pulled up in front of a large two-story brick home with a gated fence and semi-circle driveway. Walsh walked me up to the front door and escorted me inside. Waiting for me there were two women, both of which were human. One looked to be in her late sixties while the other looked younger, possibly in her early twenties. The older one smelled like a rotting corpse wrapped in moldy paper. The enhancement to my sense of smell from the Harvester nanites accentuated the natural decay her body was experiencing. If the younger one smelled any fresher, it was masked by the old one’s corruptible scent.

  “This is Grace and Mary Anne,” Walsh told me. “They’ve served your mother for many years. I believe Grace was your great-grandmother’s housekeeper at one time. Is that right, Grace?”

  “Yes, sir,” the older of the two women said meekly.

  “And Mary Anne was lucky enough to be chosen out of hundreds of women to be Grace’s apprentice. She will be in charge of taking care of the Queen when Grace passes.”

  “Why would my mother want a human servant?” I asked.

  “I’ve asked her that myself,” Walsh admitted. “She says they provide her a bit of nostalgia. Grace was the Queen’s primary caregiver when she was a child. She knows what the Queen likes and doesn’t like and is able to anticipate what she needs before she has to ask for it. So, she wanted Grace to pass down her talents to someone else, and I’m sure Mary Anne will someday pass down what she has learned from Grace to another human and so forth.”

  It surprised me to learn my mother could be so sentimental of the servant who had taken care of her as a child. It didn’t seem logical to keep such a frail looking woman around. How could she possibly be of any value in her state of decomposition?

  “Has the Queen’s daughter’s surprise arrived?” Walsh asked.

  “Yes,” Grace said, her eyes cast down, like the mention of my surprise bothered her. “They are waiting in the parlor for her.”

  “What surprise?” I asked.

  Walsh gave a tight-lipped smile. “The Queen thought you might like some help unwinding after your conversion. Please, follow me, and I’ll show you what she sent over.”

  I followed Walsh to the back side of the house. When we got to the parlor, I was met by a line of ten male Harvesters standing in the middle of the room, all of which were naked, leaving nothing hidden.

  “The Queen thought you might like some company this evening,” Walsh said. “She chose these men for you to pick from. If you would like to choose one, he’s yours for however long you want him.”

  I looked down the line of men and saw they were all slightly different in race, hair color, skin tone, and height. It seemed my mother had thought of everything in choosing a playmate for me.

  One of them stood out among the others. He was tall with a muscular build and short dark brown hair. His piercing green eyes watched me carefully. I knew exactly why my mother had chosen him. His facial features favored Jace’s too much to just be coincidental.

  “I’ll take him,” I said. “Third one down.”

  “Grant, stay; the rest of you can go.”

  The other men turned from me and left the room without a word. Grant kept his eyes locked on me.

  “Have him wait for me in my room,” I told Walsh. “I would like to take a bath and have something to eat before I go to bed.”

  “We prepared you your mother’s favorite meal,” Grace said behind me. “It’s waiting in the dining room for you.”

  I turned to Grace and followed her back out of the room.

  “You can go now Walsh, but come back in the morning. I would like to see more of the camp.”

  Walsh bowed to me.

  “I will be back first thing tomorrow,” he said before leaving.

  Mary Anne was waiting for me in the dining room as Grace and I entered. She stood at the far end of the table where a platter with a silver dome cover awaited me. After I sat down in the chair at the head of the table, Mary Anne lifted the dome, revealing three slices of rack of lamb cooked only until the meat was left slightly pink inside. Sitting beside them were glazed potatoes and baby carrots.

  “I hope you enjoy it,” Grace said, her face beaming with pride. “Your mother used to have that meal twice a week when she was a child.”

  “It looks delicious,” I said. “Would the two of you mind leaving me while I eat?”

  All I needed was an old woman who smelled like death hovering around me while I tried to enjoy my meal.

  “Of course,” said Grace. “We’ll go prepare your bath for you. Simply ring the bell by your plate to call us back if you need anything else.”

  After Grace left, I felt like I could breathe again. I still couldn’t understand why my mother would want human servants, especially an old one who was a constant reminder of death.

  I let my head dangle over the plate of food to breathe in the succulent fragrances, washing away the stench of decay that seemed to linger in the room even after Grace’s departure. I didn’t realize I was so hungry until I began to eat. Five minutes later, I was finished with my meal and wanted more. I rang the bell to which Mary Anne appeared almost immediately. After asking her for more food, she brought in the rest of the rack of lamb and what was left of the vegetables she and Grace had prepared. It didn’t take me long to finish the meal before I asked to be taken to my bath.

  Marry Anne led me to a bathroom on the second floor of the house. The room was made almost entirely out of a copper-veined white marble. A circular sunken-in porcelain tub filled with warm water and bubbles awaited me. I let Grace and Mary Anne help me disrobe. As Grace was folding up my pants, I heard the sound of something solid hit the floor. When I looked down, I saw it was the stone Jace had given to me. Grace leaned down to pick it up.

  “What a pretty rock,” Grace said. “It looks like a heart.”

  “Throw it away,” I told her. “I don’t need it anymore.” Even as the words left my mouth, I felt a need to take them back, but I didn’t.

  “All right,” Grace said hesitantly as she slid the rock into a pocket in her apron, presumably to throw it out later.

  After sliding into the bath water, I felt the tension of the day slip away from me. The scent of a flower I had not smelled in years assailed my senses.

  “Is there hyacinth in the bath water?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Grace answered. “Your mother has people make her bath oils and soaps from it. It’s her favorite flower.”

  It had been my favorite flower too as a child. Perhaps my mother and I had more in common than I realized.

  After my bath, Mary Anne toweled me off and helped me don a white silk robe.

  “If you will follow me, I can show you to your room,” Grace said.

  Grace led me down the hallway and opened the door to a room for me. She kept her gaze conspicuously averted from its interior. I assumed she either didn’t want to see Grant’s nakedness for a second time that night or think about what we would be doing in the room once she left.

  “Mary Anne and I are just down the hall if you need anything,” Grace said.

  I walked into the room and found Grant sitting in a chair by o
ne of the windows. His eyes were closed like he had fallen asleep waiting for me.

  “Wake up,” I said, wondering if he would have the stamina I needed to finally get rid of the sexual hunger I had tried to make Jace quench for me after my conversion.

  Grant didn’t move a muscle. I stepped closer to him and pinched him hard on the cheek, but his head simply fell to the side.

  “He won’t wake up for at least a day,” I heard a woman say behind me.

  I turned toward the voice, ready to fight the intruder. Her face was hidden in the shadows of the closet she was lurking in.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  The woman took two steps forward so the dim light from the nightstand by the bed could illuminate her face. I felt my heart begin to pump harder as I faced the one person I hadn’t counted on ever meeting.

  “I’m you,” my future self said to me. “And I’m here to make sure you don’t do something we’ll regret.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I looked at my future self and cringed inwardly. She looked to be somewhere in her late forties. She was dressed in black jeans, ankle high boots, and a black fitted peacoat.

  “You should leave before I kill you,” I growled. “You’ve made my life hell ever since you sent Rose.”

  Rose appeared out of the darkness directly behind my future self. She placed a hand on the other me’s shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, Rose,” my future self said. “She’s bluffing.”

  Rose let her arm drop back to her side. I saw my chance and took it. I leapt over the bed between us, instantly wrapping my hands around the throat of the older me. Before I could react, I saw Rose and future me grasp each other’s hands. My room melted away instantly.

  Sunlight filtered through the trees like the light of heaven shining through the fingers of God. The sound of birds chirping filled the air, and the scent of pine trees assailed my senses bringing back memories of my past long buried. I let go of my future self’s throat stumbling away from her and Rose to take in the scene around me.

  “Where are we?” I demanded.

  Future me was bent over at the waist trying to catch her breath. She held up a hand indicating she needed me to wait a minute before she could answer my question.

  Rose placed a gentle hand on future me’s back and asked, “Are you ok?”

  Future me nodded and stood back to her full height.

  “I’m ok. I just forgot how strong she is. I didn’t brace myself enough before she jumped me.”

  “You say that like you expected me to choke you.”

  Future me let out a harsh laugh. “Of course I did, you idiot. I’ve already been through all of this once. I know everything that will happen.”

  Future me put a hand to her throat and rubbed gently where two red hand outlines still marked her.

  “Where are we?” I repeated.

  “More like, when are we?” future me said.

  “Then when are we?” I asked tersely.

  “Turn around and see for yourself.”

  I did as she said and found myself staring at the home I once shared with my father and mother. It was a small yellow clapboard house surrounded by a white painted front porch with a swing and two rocking chairs. Flower boxes hung from the railing, overflowing with colorful pansies. I saw a small girl run out the front door with her arms stretched out on either side of her pretending she could fly.

  A woman wiping her hands on a kitchen towel appeared in the doorway.

  “Don’t go near the road,” my mother called. “Stay near the house.”

  “Ok, Mommy,” the child me replied, blowing air between her lips, mimicking the sound of an airplane.

  My mother crossed her arms in front of her and watched me play, all the while smiling.

  “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

  I looked beside me and saw my future self’s yearning to be a part of the scene before us.

  “She isn’t our mother,” I said. “She never was.”

  “Why are you so stupid?”

  “I’m not stupid. It’s the truth.”

  “It’s the truth Lucena wants you to believe. Can’t you see she’s brainwashed you into thinking she’s your real mother?”

  “She is our real mother.”

  Future me growled in frustration. “No she isn’t! Just because she gave us half our genes doesn’t make her our mother.” Future me pointed stringently toward the house. “That is our mother. She’s the one who gave birth to us, fed us, took care of us when we were sick, read us bedtime stories, and even did her best to make up fairytales when we asked her to. That’s what a real mother does. Our mother is not that egotistical, vile woman who destroyed the world so she could rule what was left of it.”

  “She lied to us.”

  “She did what she had to do to protect us,” future me said. “She was and will always be our mother.”

  I heard the child me cry out and looked back to the scene from my past. I remembered that day. I was five years old and tripped over my little red wagon while I pretended to fly because I had my eyes closed. I watched as my mother ran from the front porch and down the steps to the little girl crying and holding her knee.

  “Let me see,” I heard my mother say, forcing the younger me to move my hands away and examine the scrape on my knee. “It’s just a scratch, sweetie.”

  My mother kissed the tears on my cheeks away and picked me up in her arms to carry me back inside the house. I knew what happened after that. She would wash the cut on my knee, apply some Neosporin, and secure a Band-Aid over the wound. Then she would take me to my bed and hold me until I stopped crying.

  I placed a hand on my chest absently massaging away a phantom pain.

  “Can we go now?” I asked.

  My future self took hold of my hand and the scene faded away only to be replaced by the laughter of children.

  We were standing in a new stretch of woods where a gentle breeze rustled the colorful leaves on the trees surrounding us, hiding us from view. Far in the distance on top of a hill, I could see a small boy and girl, no older than four years old with blond hair, chasing one another around in a circle.

  “When are we now?” I asked, presuming my future self had instructed Rose to take me to particular points in my life. “I don’t remember this.”

  “That’s because it’s your future and my past,” future me replied.

  “So the sun does come back,” I said, staring past the tree limbs to the patches of blue in the sky. “How does it happen?”

  I continued to stare at the sky waiting for an answer. When I didn’t receive one, I looked at future me and noticed her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

  “Sacrifices were made,” she said, turning her attention back to the children on the hill.

  I had a feeling she wasn’t going to elaborate any further.

  “Are you going to try to show me what I’ll be missing if I decide I don’t want your future?” I asked.

  “I’m showing you what you have to fight for,” future me replied.

  “I fight for my Queen.”

  “Wow, did I really sound that dumb? ‘I fight for my Queen,’ ” future me mimicked, like it was the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard. “There are better things and people to fight for. And three of them are standing on that hill right now.”

  “Three?”

  I returned my gaze and saw that the children had indeed been joined by someone else: Jace.

  Jace was chasing after them playfully, threatening he was going to catch them both. The boy was faster than the girl and easily outran Jace. The girl was soon scooped up into Jace’s arms, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her giggles filled the air with an innocent joy I hadn’t heard in a very long time.

  Not to be left out, the boy ran back to Jace, lifting his arms up.

  “Daddy, pick me up! Pick me up!”

  “Daddy’s hands look full,” another me said to the little boy coming into view from somewhere on the othe
r side of the hill. “But mine are empty.”

  The other me stretched her arms out to the little boy, who jumped into my arms and hugged me around the neck tightly. The other me wrapped her arms around the boy and kissed him lovingly on the cheek. I saw her look into the woods where we stood and smile.

  “Those can’t be my children,” I said, feeling an unbridled anger. “I can’t have children.”

  “They are our children. You need to realize there’s more to motherhood than just being genetically related. In fact, that has very little to do with it in the long run.”

  I watched as Jace held the little girl in one arm and placed his other arm around my shoulders as we returned to someplace on the other side of the hill.

  “Why are you showing me all this? Is it supposed to change me? Are you trying to awaken whatever humanity you think I have left?”

  The future me sighed. “No, I know this isn’t going to change you back. You’ll have to fight for that on your own.”

  “Then, what’s the point? Did you just want my company while you took a trip down memory lane?”

  “You need to wake up and realize Lucena Day is not your real mother just because she gave you some DNA. Emma Blackwell was our real mother. Thankfully, you won’t stay a Harvester for very much longer, but you’ll make mistakes between now and then—things which still haunt me to this day. Just remember when you regain your humanity that you weren’t entirely responsible for your actions. Try to not be so hard on yourself this time around.”

  “Everybody wants me to change,” I said in disgust. “But what you people don’t realize is that I like the way I am. I don’t want to change.”

  “There will come a time soon when you will have to make a choice. I pray to God you make the right one because I can’t afford to lose what I have in my present. I won’t lose it.”

  “Can you take me back home now, or are you going to force me to watch some other heartfelt moment from your past?”

  “We’ll take you back now. But remember what you’ve seen today. Remember our real mother, and remember you can have a happy future if you’ll just let it happen. And for God’s sake open up your eyes and really see what’s going on around you. She hasn’t completely wiped away who you are. I think you know that, especially after what you saw tonight.”