The Last Harvest

by Kim Liggett

  I have no idea where we’re going, but for the first time in my life I’m thankful for Tyler’s stupid techno music. It’s covering up my rapid breathing.

  When we pull onto the axis road, out by the old silos, I finally figure out where we’re headed—the fairgrounds. Tyler and I used to do Junior Rodeo out here, but I haven’t been here in years. He whips into the dirt lot next to the ring and cuts the engine. As soon as Tyler opens his door, I spring from the car, inhaling the manure-filled air.

  “What are we doing out here?”

  “Thought this would be a good place to talk,” Tyler says as he goes to the back of his car and opens the trunk, pulling out a big black duffel bag. “Maybe blow off a little steam.”

  I don’t know what’s in that bag, but it can’t be good.

  Tyler eyes me. “Sure are nervous, Tate.”

  I pull my damp hair back from my face and scan the grounds. I’m looking around for a witness, but it’s deserted. I wonder if they’d ever find my body out here. “You know, everyone saw me leave school with you.”

  “Yeah … I made sure of that,” Tyler says as he dumps the duffel at his feet with a dull thud.

  “Seriously, Tate.” Ben stands next to Tyler, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re the ones who should be scared of you.”

  “Me?” I balk.

  Tammy and Ali close ranks and that’s when it dawns on me—they think I had something to do with Jimmy’s death.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I exhale. “Is that what this is all about? You seriously think I did that?”

  “No.” Ben wrinkles up his nose. “But someone must’ve made him do it. Someone he was scared shitless of.”

  “And you think that was me?”

  “All I know is it took five of us to pull you off him.”

  “We all wanted to kill him,” I say, in my defense.

  “Then where were you that night?” Tyler steps toward me. “’Cause we know you didn’t go home.”

  “Oh yeah?” I square my shoulders. “And how would you know that?”

  Tammy nudges Ali.

  “I went to your place after the Harvest Festival,” Ali says, her voice soft, her eyes full of sympathy. “I waited for you all night.”

  “Just to talk,” Tyler adds through gritted teeth.

  “And Nick, up at Merritt’s?” Ben clears his throat. “He said you came in all agitated. Said you were bustin’ his balls over some girl and then took off into the woods, left your truck there till morning.”

  “Look.” I let out a deep sigh. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I had a run-in with the Wiggins kid.”

  They all look at each other, an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air.

  “I’m not a meth head, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s personal—has to do with Jess. He was waiting for me when I came out of Merritt’s. Hit me in the back of the head with a two-by-four, knocked me out cold.” I bend my head down so they can look.

  Tammy steps forward to inspect. “There’s nothing there,” she whispers.

  “What?” I lurch to Tyler’s car, tilting the side mirror. “It must’ve already healed,” I say as I run my fingers over the base of my skull.

  “Or it never happened.” Tyler stares me down.

  “You think I’m lying?” I advance on Tyler and Ali steps between us.

  “Clay, we know about what you thought you saw at the breeding barn,” Ali says. “We know about the calf. We know you’ve been seeing things.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” I say as I pace the dirt.

  “When Sheriff came to talk to us—”

  “Wait … did you tell him I wasn’t home?”

  “Hell no.” Ben juts his head back. “We didn’t tell him jack shit.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to tell you,” Ali says. “You can trust us.”

  “We’ve got your back.” Ben slams his hand on my shoulder. “You’re one of us now.”

  “You don’t understand.” I pull away from him and continue pacing the lot. “There’s a lot more going on here.”

  “Like what?” Tammy asks.

  “Like Jimmy. Jimmy wasn’t himself. You saw … you saw his eyes. They were black. Pure black. And he was saying all these creepy things about the seed—”

  “They were both high as kites.” Tyler raises a brow.

  “The thing is, no one would even blame you if you told him to do it.” Ben rubs the back of his neck. “What happened with your sister … what Jimmy did was way out of line.”

  “It’s not like that,” I say, completely exasperated. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Then tell us,” Tyler says. “Tell us how it is.”

  Ali steps toward me. “Please … help us understand. Because we’re trying.”

  “You’re trying? Trying to what?”

  “We’re trying to protect you, Clay. But we have to know the truth.”

  “The truth?” I say with a hysterical chuckle. “You want to talk truth? Okay … then tell me about the marks … the brand. I know you all have one. And I know what it means.”

  “What, this piece of crap?” Ben laughs as he pulls up the leg of his Wranglers. “When we all stepped up to the council, we thought we’d get tattoos, for the Preservation Society—”

  “But Ali’s afraid of needles.” Tammy rolls her eyes.

  “So we figured a brand might be good,” Ben continues. “If it’s good enough for the OU football team, it should be good enough for us.” Ben gives the upside-down hook-’em-horns sign.

  “Tyler used a coat hanger,” Ali explains. “Bent it up to make it look like the Preservation Society symbol, you know … the bull with the two horns and hoofs.”

  “But we got wasted.” Ben laughs. “Mr. Miller’s rye is no fucking joke.”

  “I don’t care what you guys say.” Tyler rolls up his sleeve to show me. “I still think it’s cool. It looks tribal or something.”

  “It looks like a demented smiley face, or frowny face, depending on how you look at it,” Tammy says under her breath.

  “I heard that, Tammy,” Tyler snaps, but then a slow smile spreads across his face. “Fine. Maybe it wasn’t my best idea.”

  Ali smooths her hair down. “I’m just glad I had enough sense to put it somewhere I could cover it up. But do you guys remember Ben that night?” She tries to stifle a grin. “Ben wanted it in the middle of his forehead. Can you imagine?”

  They all start cracking up at the memory and I can see it in their faces—they’re telling the truth, or what they believe is the truth. I mean, who knows what really happened … they all just admitted they were wasted. Maybe they don’t know what’s really happening to them.

  “Hey, Tate,” Ben says as he dries his eyes. “I’m just curious. What’d you think it meant?”

  I could make something up, laugh it off, but this could be my shot. Tyler’s always been so easy to read. If they’ve been marked for the Devil, and they know about it, maybe I’ll be able to tell.

  “The mark,” I say as I drag my heel in the dirt making an upside-down U with two dots above and below. “It looks really similar to this ancient symbol called the Devil’s Portal.”

  “The Devil, huh?” Tyler smirks, but there’s something in his eyes, an intensity, that doesn’t match his casual appearance. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been spending a little too much time with Miss Granger.”

  “Miss Granger?” I narrow my eyes. I can tell by the way he’s leaning against his car, the careful way he’s holding his body, that he’s trying to sell me something, but what? I decide to take the bait. “And what would that have to do with Miss Granger?”

  “You don’t know about her?” Ali pulls on her fleece jacket, rubbing her arms.

  “Seriously, Clay?” Tammy rolls her eyes. “I know you’re a football player, but do you have to be such a cliché? You think we just happened to get an Ivy League counselor … in Midl
and? Please.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Ben shakes his head. “She’s been spoutin’ off that Devil shit for years.”

  “Years? But she just moved here last year.”

  “Or just got out,” Tammy murmurs.

  “Out? Out of where? College?”

  “Oakmoor,” they answer in unison.

  “What? That’s impossible.” I whisper, but there’s something about it that registers on the back of my neck, something about it that rings true. I remember that look in her eyes when she told me not to tell anyone about this or they’d send me to Oakmoor, like she knew firsthand what that was like. “I thought she was just a volunteer over there.”

  “Checked herself in two years ago, right after Harvard,” Tyler says as he looks at himself in the side mirror and then pops it back in place. “But I’d still do her.”

  Tammy and Ali smack him at the same time. “What?” He laughs. “She’s hot.”

  “How do you know all this?” I ask.

  “We overheard the council talking about it last year, debating whether they were going to take her on … give her a chance at rehabilitation.”

  “That’s why all of us have had to go to counseling this year,” Tammy says.

  “It’s a charity thing.” Ben cracks his neck. “But I had no idea Jimmy actually needed it.”

  I think about everything Miss Granger told me. What if it was all a lie? Nothing more than the ramblings of a crazy person. And what does that say about me that I was more willing to believe the town was possessed by the Devil—that I was a prophet—over facing the reality that my dad was probably schizophrenic and I might have it, too? I mean, what proof did I actually have of any of this? The marks, sure … but like they said, they were drunk. Their story makes sense. And Jimmy killing himself. People kill themselves all the time. It doesn’t mean the Devil’s in town. No one really knew him. He was a weird kid. Maybe he felt so guilty about what he did to Jess that he couldn’t live with himself.

  Or … maybe Miss Granger checked herself into Oakmoor as a way to infiltrate the community. Maybe this is exactly what she wants them to think. Maybe this was her plan all along.

  Anything’s possible at this point.

  Ali reaches out for my arm, breaking my train of thought. “I don’t mind going to see Miss Granger for counseling. She’s helped me a lot this year.”

  I study her, trying to figure out if she’s talking in some kind of code. Maybe she’s trying to tell me she knows about it, too. Maybe I’m not alone in all this.

  “Have you guys ever noticed the way Miss Granger’s always scratching her head when she gets nervous?” Tyler asks.

  “Oh yeah.” Ben crams a big wad of chew in his bottom lip. “I just thought it was dandruff.”

  Ali pulls her hair over her shoulder. “One time she caught me staring at her necklace, and she started scratching her head so hard, she drew blood. I felt really bad.”

  “Self-mutilation.” Tammy pushes her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “Maybe that’s why she has to keep her hair up like that. To cover it up.”

  “Did she tell you the Devil’s going to take over the town or some stupid shit like that?” Ben blurts.

  I don’t know what to say, so I just stand there, staring down at the tiny patch of clover trying to push up through the dirt.

  “Wait. You didn’t actually believe her, did you?” Tyler laughs.

  They’re all staring at me, waiting for an answer.

  “No … I mean, I don’t know…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ali says as she stands next to me. “All that matters is we’re here. Together. And it’s a beautiful day.”

  “Beautiful-ish,” Tammy whispers up at the gray sky.

  Ben rests his arm on my shoulder. “You’re all kinds of messed up right now, Tate, but we’re going to make you right. The Preservation Society will make you right again.”

  Tyler glares at him. It’s a miniscule moment, a tiny whisper of warning, but I’ve got my eyes wide open now. Miss Granger and I might both be crazy, but Tyler’s up to something. He brought me out here for a reason. And I’m going to have to play along a little longer if I want to find out what it is.

  “How about we put all this behind us and have some fun?” Tyler cracks his knuckles. “Agreed?”

  Ali wraps her pinkie around mine for a brief moment. It gives me the courage to nod.

  Tyler crouches to unzip the bag, revealing bull riding gear. “Now…” He looks up at me with a smug grin. “Who’s ready to ride?”

  30

  ALI PLUCKS a rich brown Stetson from the bag and fixes it on my head. “There,” she says, looking up at me with those big doe eyes. “You look like a real cowboy now.”

  I want to ask her what she meant back there when she said that about Miss Granger helping her this year, but Tyler’s watching my every move. Or hers. I can’t help wondering if that’s what this is all about—Ali.

  Ben opens the barn door and a bull comes charging into the chute. “Holy shit,” he hollers. The bull’s pure black, like he’s made up of a thousand crow feathers, with horns sharp as razors.

  “What’s his name?” I ask, watching him rage against the bars.

  “Diablo.” Tyler grins as he struggles to get him roped up.

  “Of course it is.” I take a deep breath.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Ali sidles next to me at the fence. “No one would blame you if … well, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Oh, I think I do.” I reach out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and she smiles up at me, like she understands everything. And that’s the way it used to be between us. Half the time we didn’t even need words.

  Tyler clears his throat and I pull my hand back. I can feel him staring a hole in my head, his rage matching the bull’s. Pretty sure he was thinking I’d wuss out, but I’m not backing down. Not anymore.

  “How ’bout we make this a little more interesting,” Tyler says as he hops down from the chute and pulls out his wallet, placing a hundred-dollar bill on top of the fence post. “A hundred bucks apiece to whoever can stay in the ring the longest.”

  “Ease up, Tyler Trump.” I try and make a joke out of it, but I can’t believe he has a hundred-dollar bill in his wallet, like it’s no big deal.

  “Yeah, that’s a little steep for my blood, too,” Ben says as he digs around in his pockets.

  “Fine.” Tyler sighs. “Whatever’s in your pockets then.”

  Ben puts down sixty. I put in what I’ve got.

  “Twenty-two bucks?” Tyler laughs. “I almost feel bad taking this from you, Tate. Almost.”

  He dusts off an old horseshoe and places it on top of the money. “Your winning streak is over,” he says, as he brushes past me to put on his gear.

  Ben slaps me on the back. “Just like old times, huh, Tate?”

  “Something like that.” I force myself to smile. Tyler might have the custom-made chaps, the best training money can buy, but we’re not playing for points here. What I lack in style, I make up for in heart. And all I have to do is hang on the longest. I’m good at hanging on to things.

  I watch Ali leaning up against the fence, talking to the bull, trying to soothe it, and I know she’s innocent in all this. I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect her.

  Tammy comes out of the brush with three blades of onion grass. We draw to decide the order. It’s Ben, then Tyler, then me.

  As Ben’s pacing next to the chute, trying to psych himself up, I’m thinking I lucked out. They don’t call him Big Ben for nothing. Hopefully, he’ll tire Diablo out a bit so I can get a decent ride.

  Ben climbs onto the bull and gives the signal—at least I think it’s a signal. Either that or he’s changed his mind and he’s trying to get off.

  Tyler opens the chute.

  The bull spins hard to the left, does a belly roll, and that’s all she wrote. Ben lasts all of 1.4 seconds before he’s thrown off. He�
��s scrambling over the side of the ring to throw up before we even have a chance to jump in and distract the bull.

  “Sexy,” Tammy mutters.

  “Oh man!” Ben dusts off his jeans. “I swallowed my chew.”

  Tyler’s up next.

  Back when we used to do Junior Rodeo together, he had all sorts of weird little rituals he copied from the pros. He’d kiss the bull, take off his hat, and give thanks to God … anything for the attention. All show, no substance, but the judges loved that crap. I see things haven’t changed much. Tyler climbs onto the bull and makes a big show out of just putting on his gloves. He’s pounding his fist on the flat braided rope, which makes Diablo even more pissed. I wait for the signal. As soon as Tyler tips his hat, I open the gate. The bull bursts from the chute with a fury I feel underneath my skin. He’s spinning and bucking and sunfishing so hard, I’m shocked Tyler’s able to last the 4.2 seconds he does. Ben jumps in to distract the bull, but Diablo pays him no mind—he’s laser-focused on Tyler. The bull’s got his head low as he stamps his hoof in the dirt, his tail twitching violently.

  “Tyler!” I shout as I climb up on the fence. “You need to get out of there.”

  But Tyler just sits there in the dirt, staring at the bull, completely transfixed. He pulls a knife from the sheath in his boot and the bull rears back to charge.

  The flash of silver. The snorting breath. Something snaps inside of me. I jump in the ring, diving in front of Tyler’s body.

  I hear the grating sound of hooves skidding in the dirt. I shut my eyes, bracing for impact, but all I feel is the hot rancid breath of the bull breathing down on my neck. Tyler scrambles out from under me. I hear the others helping him over the side of the ring.

  “No way,” Ben whispers behind me.

  I open my eyes, and grasp onto Tyler’s knife lying next to me. Peering through the settling dust, I face the bull. He’s kneeling right in front of me, one of his horns pressed against my chest. All he has to do is lean in and it’ll go straight through my heart. As soon as I meet his gaze, something goes off inside of me, a lightning bolt of recognition.