by Michael Bray
He swung the door open, but couldn’t bear to look to the floor to see if his suspicions were right. He realised that his entire future could rest on a pair of dirty boots. He took a deep breath, and looked down.
The old man’s boots were there, as were Randy’s own. He had expected that Dwayne’s would be missing, but his too were there, set neatly next to the others. Randy looked from the boots out into the fields and the torch beam that still danced and cut through the air.
There was somebody else out there.
Randy charged across the garden, crushing the crops that he had spent the last few days tending to. He knew he had to warn whoever was out there and tell them to leave before it was too late. Maybe he could even ask them to go for help. He was almost to the boundary of the crops, and the scarecrows loomed like sentinels framed by the night sky. He paid them no heed and charged into the field, twisting and ducking around their reaching arms as he approached the flashlight beam.
“Go back.” He screamed, hoping that it might frighten the would-be explorers away. “Get out of here,”
He could see them in his mind, naive kids, much like he was just a few days ago, looking to get a thrill by creeping onto the Samsonite Farm to laugh at his scarecrows, but this was no laughing matter, and Randy knew that he had to warn them, whatever the cost. He stumbled, and one of the scarecrows dry, stick fingers scraped his cheek, but he kept his footing and went on. The torch beam was just ahead of him now, and he exploded into the clearing hoping it wasn’t too late to stop them, when he froze.
It was Dwayne.
He was naked and dancing, gibbering to himself as he swung the torch around over his head. He was covered in dirt and as Randy looked on, he paused and scooped up a large handful of earth and shoveled it into his mouth.
“What the fuck....” Was all Randy could manage, and as he watched his friend, he found that he was more afraid of him than of the scarecrows.
Dwayne ignored him, and continued to dance in circles, hopping on one foot as he laughed and muttered. Randy realised that if they were to leave, they couldn’t wait. He saw Dwayne’s discarded clothes piled up on the floor, and began to search through them, looking for the lighter.
“You won’t find it.” Dwayne cackled. “I buried it.”
“Where? Where did you bury it?” Randy screamed, but Dwayne only laughed.
“They have it now.” He said, then picked up another handful of earth and ate it. Randy could see that his stomach was bloating as he engorged himself.
“Come on man.” Randy pleaded. “We need to get out of here, we need to go home.”
Dwayne stopped dancing and looked at Randy, then flashed a dirty grin.
“I am home.” He said simply, and then started to dance again, swinging the torch above his head.
Horrified and dazed, Randy backed away, and ran back to the house before whatever was in the earth here infected him too. He kept waiting for the cold, dry grip of the scarecrows to impede him, but they let him pass without incident, seemingly content for now with Dwayne. He exited the trees, and paused by the crops, hands on his knees. His mind swam with the enormity of what had happened, and he walked back towards the house in a daze, unsure what the next move should be. He entered the house and closed the door behind him, then sat at the kitchen table, holding his head in his hands.
“Do you see it now?” The old man said as he walked out of the shadows.
Randy didn’t answer. Jorell walked to the table and sat opposite Randy.
“They have him, just like they took me all those years ago.”
Randy lifted his head, fully intending to give the old man hell, but stopped when he saw him. His face was swollen and he had cuts across the bridge of his nose and eye. He offered Randy a dejected smile, and poured them both a mug of moonshine from the jug on the kitchen table.
“What the hell happened to you?” Randy asked as the old man set the glass of alcohol in front of him.
“I think you know, or at least suspect the answer to that question.”
“Dwayne. He did this didn’t he?”
The old man nodded, and drained his glass.
“I was having him help me out there. I used to be able to do it on my own but I’m getting old, and my joints don’t work so good. Those things insist on me planting new ones every few weeks, and I couldn’t do it by myself.”
The old man grimaced, and took another thoughtful sip. Randy could see that his hands were shaking.
“I didn’t think they would get to him as long as I stayed with him. I thought he would be alright. But I noticed him starting to change, and so I told him to come back down to the house earlier this morning.”
“I saw him; he said he had come back for water.”
“I suspect he did, but that wasn’t the reason. He was supposed to be helping me plant the crows, but I saw him digging in the dirt. Using his bare hands he was, and I could hear him whispering to himself as he did it. I didn’t like that, reminded me too much of myself way back in the beginning, so I sent him away. He refused, I insisted. Then he took the shovel and did this.”
The old man pointed to his eye, which was almost swollen shut.
“Left me there and continued to dig and talk to whatever it is in the dirt here. I suspect he only came back to the house to keep you from coming over to see what was happening. Whilst he was over talking to you, I was out there bleeding under the sun and unable to get up.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, how could I know...”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it kid, it’s not your fault.” The old man said, offering Randy a top up of the moonshine. Randy accepted the offer, and the old man went on. “So he comes back, and he starts talking to this hole in the ground, telling it all about your plans.”
Randy straightened in his seat, and stammered before the old man held up a hand to stop him.
“Before you try and talk your way out of it, don’t bother. He told them how you two planned to burn your way out of here, which, by the way, wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
“Why not?”
“They don’t burn, son, that’s why. Tried it myself. No matter how dry it gets, those damn things just don’t take a flame. Anyways, that’s beside the point. I was trapped there with him, and he was singing and chattering and I realised then that they had him, I mean completely had him. I tried to talk to them, thinking that they would listen to me since I had looked after them for all those years, but for the first time ever, they shut me out. Cut me off.”
The old man’s lip started to tremble, and he drank the rest of his whiskey.
“He was going to kill me.” He said, matter of factly.
Randy blinked, and couldn’t formulate an answer. Jorrell went on, the calm tone of his voice unsettling.
“He was going to kill me and bury me out there in the fields, but they wouldn’t let him, I suppose that was my reward for the years I have served them.
I was told I could leave, and by then it was late. He took off his shoes, and told me to take them and put them by the door. He said he didn’t want you to know what he was up to out there, because he needed you to have hope.”
“What do you mean? Hope?”
“I don’t know, I’m just telling you what he told me, whatever that friend of yours is up to, I’m not privy to it.”
“I don’t get how this could happen; I mean you said it took weeks for you to be... influenced by those things. How could it happen to Dwayne in just a couple of days?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I have a theory, if you want to hear it.”
“Go ahead.” Randy said, wincing as he drank the potent home brew.
“I think when I first discovered it, whatever lives in the dirt, it was weak and in its infancy.
I also think that I was less inclined to listen to them back then because I had something else to hold onto. A wife, a family, a business. But with this friend of yours, I think he was perfect for them. He told me about his
mother, and I could see that he was one of those drifter, thrill seeker types. Directionless and looking for a purpose. I think that made him perfect for them. You have to remember, that this... whatever it is, has lived down in the earth there for nigh on forty years. Who knows how long before that? Its strong now, hell I’m sure you felt it, how the atmosphere is different out there, how the air tastes like a storm all the damn time.”
Randy nodded, he had felt it.
“Well, I think now that its strong, it can work fast, and that buddy of yours was easy pickings for them and their needs.”
“That’s what I don’t understand. Randy said. “What is it they want with him?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” The old man said with a knowing smile. “He’s my replacement. I’m too old to tend to them anymore, and they know as well as I do that my days are numbered. They want him to take over where I left off.”
Randy licked his lips, not sure quite how to word the question that he needed to ask. The old man grinned, and said it for him.
“If you’re wondering what that means for me, then I think we both know.”
“They will kill you, won’t they?”
“Oh no, I don’t think so. They know I’m old, they know I’m not gonna last much longer. I think for me, they’ll just wait until the inevitable happens, then that friend of yours will bury me out there in the damn dirt and feed me to them.”
Randy swallowed, and it hit him all at once
“That just leaves me.” He said, somehow feeling distanced from his own body.
“Aye.” The old man said as he poured them both another drink. “They know you want to escape, and are young and hungry enough to try it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that they won’t want to take that risk, and will want you out of the picture.”
“But I’m safe as long as I stay out of the fields. Right?”
The old man smiled and shook his head.
“They’ll send him to do it, and make no mistake, he will.”
“He wouldn’t do that, even if those things told him to. I have known Dwayne since we were eight years old.”
“You don’t get it, do you, son? Whoever your friend was before don’t exist anymore. He’s gone. That thing out in the field now serves them. No two ways about it.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
The old man leaned closer, and he whispered the words that Randy was desperate not to hear.
“You’ll have to kill him, before he kills you.”
“I can’t do that. I’m no murderer, he’s my friend.”
“No, he isn’t, not anymore. All I can do is advise you. Either will or you won’t mind what I tell ya. But take it from me. He will come for you, and he will do all he can to make sure you die.”
Randy lowered his head, and despite his desperation to disbelieve the old man, he knew that he was right.
“I need time, I need to think.” Randy said as he drained his glass.
“Time is a luxury you don’t have. He will come, and it will be soon.”
“I can stop him; I can talk him out of it.”
“You might think so, and I thought so too. But think about this. Even when it was weak, they still made me butcher my pregnant wife and feed her to them. No matter how much you think that your human spirit will be enough, your friend will come and he will try to kill you. That’s not me trying to put the frighteners on you, that’s just the way it is.”
“How long do I have?”
“Who knows?” The old man shrugged. It could be minutes, hours or days. But it will be soon. And you need to do whatever it takes to be ready.”
“Will you help me? If I try to get you out of here, will you help?” Randy blurted, looking the old man in the eye.
“Ten years ago I would have said yes, but I’m too old, too tired. I can’t help you.”
“You can’t just watch it happen, please!”
“I’m sorry.” The old man said as he stood. “I can’t get involved.”
He walked past Randy, placing a hand on his shoulder as he passed. “Good luck son.” He said, then left the room and headed upstairs.
Randy looked out of the window at the dancing torch beams, and thought about what he would have to do.
The night faded to day, and still Dwayne didn’t come. The torch beam stopped shining a little after four am, but Randy was sure that Dwayne was still out there dancing, and it was just the battery that had expired. He had toiled with the actions that he must take, and although morally they went against everything that he stood for, he acknowledged that it was a case of life or death, and he would do whatever it took to get back to the world, and his life.
By mid-morning, he realised that the waiting was worse, and part of him was eager for Dwayne to make his move, so that at least he would be able to reach some resolution.
The old man had only come downstairs briefly, and even then he didn’t speak and barely looked at Randy, pausing just long enough to get some food and head back upstairs. Randy heard the old man lock his bedroom door, and once again he was alone. He stepped outside and looked around at the never ending landscape of scarecrows. He knew well enough that they surrounded the house, and that Dwayne could be anywhere, watching him whilst remaining completely unseen himself. Randy held his breath and listened, but he could hear only the pleasant chatter of birds and the drone of bees as they explored the crops. Morning drifted into afternoon, and still there was no sign of Dwayne. The day had been hot and dry, and Randy wondered just how his friend was lasting without food or water, then realised that he was probably receiving both from the earth, assuming he was still eating it.
Randy cupped his hands over his eyes, and surveyed the landscape, and was just starting to think that it would be after dark now before he came, when he saw him. Just his head at first as he pushed his way through the scarecrows. Randy tensed, and his heart rate increased. Despite the hours psyching himself up, he found that he was rooted to the spot, and unable to move from the doorstep.
Dwayne marched towards the house. He was fully dressed, apart from his feet which were bare. His hands and mouth were streaked with dirt, and his eyes stared blankly as he approached.
This is it.
Randy thought to himself as he prepared for the coming confrontation. Dwayne marched to within ten feet of Randy, and then stopped. The two friends faced off, Randy was trying as best he could to hide his fear. Dwayne simply stared and twitched.
“You don’t have to do this.” Randy pleaded, his voice sounding incredibly loud in the stillness of the day.
“Death is the only way, they said I have to.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t have to listen to them.”
“If I don’t, they say you will try to hurt me. I have to do it first.”
“I don’t want to hurt you Dwayne; I’ll do anything not to have to.”
“I’m not here for you; I’m here for the old man.”
Randy blinked, at the unexpected turn of events.
“He said they were letting him go, and that it’s me they want dead.”
“I convinced them.” Dwayne said as he smiled, his teeth covered in dirt. “I said you were better alive, that you would come around eventually and help me.”
“Help with what?”
“Help to grow them, to help them spread. Samsonite is too old, but we are young and strong. I convinced them to let you live.”
“But the old man has to die?”
Dwayne nodded. “That’s how it has to be.”
“We aren’t murderers,” Randy said “we don’t need to do this.”
“This is bigger than us Randy, you don’t understand yet, but it is. I’ll tell you, fill you in, but first we have to finish the old man. He’s a threat to us. He will kill us if we don’t kill him.”
“He won’t,” Randy said, shaking his head. “He’s frightened. He just wants peace.”
“And what better peace is there than d
eath?” Dwayne said, emitting a sharp bray of laughter.
“I can’t let you in here. I won’t let you kill him.”
Dwayne shook his head, a look of genuine sadness on his face.
“Don’t make me hurt you. I really don’t want to. Trust me.”
“Like I did about the plan to escape?” Randy said, setting himself in the doorframe of the house.
“You don’t understand, this way is better. Just let me finish the old man, then I’ll tell you all about it.”
Dwayne took a step forwards, and in one fluid motion, Randy picked up the shotgun from inside the door and aimed it at his friend.
“Don’t you fucking move,” He screamed.
Dwayne smiled, and put his hands up slowly. Randy noted that he looked completely unconcerned, and that his eyes were filled with that deep, dark something that until that day had only been seen in glimpses.
“You won’t kill me, Randy. We both know it.”
“I don’t want to, but I will if I have to.”
Dwayne took a single step forward. “No, you won’t. You aren’t a killer. You aren’t disturbed like me. You are the good guy, the one who everyone likes. You aren’t a loner.”
“Not one more step Dwayne, I’m warning you.”
Dwayne smiled, and took another step closer. There was now less than eight feet between them.
“You would really put a gun on me to protect some old fuck we don’t even know?”
“You don’t get to choose who lives or dies, and neither do they.” Randy said, nodding towards the scarecrows.
“You don’t understand, I really do think you would see things differently. All you see is what’s on the surface, but those scarecrows, their roots run deep, and they grow and spread in ways you can’t imagine. Now I’m coming through, and I’m going to kill the old man, then we can talk, okay?”
“Don’t do it, please.” Randy said, his hands shaking as he kept the weapon focussed on Dwayne.
