The Last Harvest

by Kim Liggett

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” I ask.

  “We’ve waited long enough.”

  She kisses me again, deeper this time, and it feels like I’m diving off a cliff at the quarry—life or death can be waiting for me below, but it doesn’t matter.

  As she takes off my shirt, I unzip the back of her dress, nice and slow, giving her plenty of time to stop me. She doesn’t. I’ve dreamed about this moment for so long, and now that it’s here, I’m scared.

  I let out a shuddering breath as she smooths her hands over my stomach, my muscles tensing under her touch. She shrugs out of the straps of her dress, letting it pool around her waist. I kiss her shoulder, her neck, her collarbone; her skin seems to warm beneath my breath like sunlit honey.

  She starts to unbutton my fly. It’s so tight. But as soon as she gets the top button undone, the rest of the silver buttons pop open. We both laugh a little.

  Swallowing my nerves, I run my hands up her thighs, under the skirt of her dress, when she stands abruptly and I think this is it—I’ve gone too far, but she only pushes the rest of her clothes to the floor, stepping out of the fabric.

  I stare up at her in awe. Her tousled hair, her flushed cheeks. It’s like I’m seeing her for the first time.

  She pulls me to my feet, kissing me, helping me out of the rest of my clothes. I feel so vulnerable under her gaze, but it feels right, like everything in my life has been leading me to this moment.

  She eases down on the bed, her dark hair spilling over my pillow, her beautiful skin touching my sheets. I can’t believe she’s here, that this is really happening, but I can feel it in every part of my body, every bit of my soul, pulling me toward her, like this is home.

  I lower myself on top of her. She takes in a deep gasp of air, and I freeze. Everything inside me wants to keep going. But I don’t want to hurt her. My body trembles with restraint.

  “Do you want me to st—”

  She leans forward, kissing me. Her tongue is no longer timid, it’s strong and insistent, full of need. She pulls me into her. I groan with how good it feels. I was worried I wouldn’t know what to do, but it’s like my body knows. I try to be gentle, but the way she’s grabbing onto me, the way our bodies seem to fit together in perfect symmetry is more than I can bear. Together, we’re striving for something higher than ourselves. We’re all tangled up in each other to the point where I’m not sure where I end and she begins. It’s like we’re one person. One entity, moving in time.

  Every care, every worry vanishing—I feel myself disappearing into her. Everything’s building … mounting … yearning. And in one moment, an explosion of images race through my mind—her black eyes, her body slick with blood when she climbed out of the cow, the dead cat clutched to her lips—but I can’t stop. I keep going, moving inside of her, until there’s nothing left of me. A flurry of blood and darkness and desire and need. Life and death in a single impulse.

  I rest on top of her, afraid to move … afraid to look at her. I’m embarrassed by the thoughts that ran through my head, but when she strokes the back of my head and whispers, “I love you,” I know it’s okay … that this is real. It’s Ali. It’s me.

  I’m taking her in, every bit of her smell, her sweat, her breath when I feel her stomach grumble. I laugh into her shoulder as I collapse next to her. She lets out a gentle sigh as she turns onto her side. She’s asleep.

  I slip out of bed and pull on my jeans. I didn’t think I lasted all that long, but the sky’s getting dark now.

  Ali’s stomach growls again. She stirs, but still doesn’t wake.

  I kiss her on the forehead. “I’ll find you something to eat.”

  I go downstairs to the kitchen, and flip on the light switch, but there’s no power. I pick up the phone—the line’s dead, too. That’s weird.

  I look at the bills fixed to the refrigerator. It seems like we’re caught up, but who knows how long Mom’s been slipping.

  It doesn’t even matter. As soon as I deal with Jess’s funeral arrangements, get Mom the help she needs, I’m selling this place. Lock, stock, and barrel. I don’t owe my ancestors shit. I know Noodle won’t understand, but she’ll get over it. Maybe Ali and I will take her all the way out to California. Jess always talked about wanting to go there. I can just see Ali and Noodle playing in the surf, making sand castles.

  I catch my reflection in the glass door of the cabinet—my goofy-ass smile. Despite everything, all this tragedy, I’m happy. We’re finally clear of this. There’s nothing but blue skies ahead.

  I open the cabinets to find they’re barren. Just some stale saltines and a little bit of peanut butter left. This’ll have to do. I place the items on a plate and grab a knife.

  As I head back toward the banister, I hear the buzzing. I want to ignore it, but it’s so loud now. How did I not hear it before? As soon as I step into the living room, my knees buckle.

  The wall above the mantle is a quivering black mass, but it’s not random anymore. The flies are in a perfect formation of the cross that once hung there. The cross my father used to kill the cattle.

  I drop the plate of food and clasp my hands over my ears, but I can still hear them. It’s not just buzzing … it sounds like they’re saying something, whispering. I listen closer.

  “He’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming,” over and over and over again, like a drone. This is what my mother was hearing … it was real.

  “This can’t be happening. We did the exorcism. The Devil’s been banished from this place.” I stagger out of the room, searching for the flyswatter, when I hear Ali scream.

  Running upstairs, my heart stutters as I enter my room. Ali’s huddled in the corner, a blood-smeared sheet wrapped around her, sweat covering her sallow face.

  “What happened?” I ask as I edge toward her. “Did I do this to you?”

  “I don’t know.” She’s panting. “But something’s wrong.”

  What is it?” I crouch in front of her.

  Slowly, she pulls back the sheet to expose her swollen and stretched stomach.

  “What the hell?” I collapse back on my heels.

  “Clay,” she says in terror as she reaches out for my hand. “There’s something inside me … something alive. Feel it.”

  Tentatively, I let her place my palm against her stomach. The moment I make contact with her skin, I feel something pound against my hand.

  Ali screams out in pain.

  “I … I don’t understand.” I scoot back.

  She lets out a guttural moan as her stomach rolls and heaves.

  I dig my fingers into my skull, trying to pull myself together, trying to think. “We have to get Miss Granger … and the priests … they’ll know what to do.”

  A loud insistent bark pulls my attention. I look out the window to see Hammy standing at the edge of the wheat, hackles raised, growling at the dirt. A small hand emerges from the ground and all I can think of is Ali climbing out of that cow. I watch in horror as that fucking baby doll crawls out of the hole and stands on its own two feet. The doll looks up, fixing her big, shiny black eyes on me, and grins.

  “It’s alive,” I whisper.

  It was the doll that was moving around in Jess’s room all that time. The doll from the photo of our ancestors.

  The baby doll takes off running into the wheat with Hammy chasing after it.

  I press myself against the glass to get a better view.

  And that’s when I see them.

  The others.

  60

  HUNDREDS OF people are walking through the wheat, straight for our farm.

  I blink hard, hoping this is just another vision, but there’s something about this that feels all too real … inevitable. This is supposed to be over. Maybe they made a mistake. Maybe I needed to be exorcized, too.

  “We have to get out of here. We have to get back to the breeding barn,” I say as I gather up Ali’s clothes. “We’re going to have to run.”

  �
�Run? I … I can’t. You’re going to have to leave me here and get help.”

  I scoop her up in my arms. “I’m not leaving you. No matter what happens … no matter what you see … I’m with you. Do you understand?”

  I force her to look at me, relieved to find it’s still Ali … the girl I love with the soft hazel eyes. “Just hang on to me,” I say as I carry her down the stairs, past the flies and their sickening whispers. I open the front door to find the perimeter of the wheat filled with people, with hundreds more pushing through behind them. Some are complete strangers … some I recognize from town.

  “Dale,” I yell. He smiles, but it’s not his smile. His eyes are pure black—dead and inhuman.

  This is just like my dream … the vision I had during the game.

  Dale’s one of them now, along with Greg Tilford, Reverend Devers, Mrs. Gifford, Mr. Cox … they’re all a part of this now.

  “Clay … what’s wrong with them?” Ali asks. “Why are they smiling like that? What’s wrong with their eyes? Why won’t they help us?”

  I take off running with Ali in my arms toward the Neely ranch. “Don’t fucking come near us,” I scream as I cut through the wheat, but they’re everywhere. They don’t try to grab us, but they’re following. Watching. It’s so dark now that I can hardly see more than a few feet in front of me, but I can hear them breathing all around me.

  I’m never going to make it all the way back to the barn carrying her like this. I see the silhouette of the combine in the distance and I pick up my pace.

  I’m hurrying to stay one step ahead of these freaks, but I can’t afford a misstep. Ali’s in bad enough shape as it is. She muffles an occasional scream into my shoulder as her stomach roils and heaves. It only seems to be getting worse. My muscles are burning, but I keep going. Whatever’s happening to her, Miss Granger will know what to do. She has to. I can’t lose Ali again.

  As I’m hoisting Ali into the cab of the combine, I hear the keys drop out of my pocket. “Damn it.”

  I get down on my hands and knees, feeling my way around the discarded wheat stems, and I hear one of the stalks snap. I look up, afraid to see anything, afraid not to, but it’s pitch-black now.

  “Clay, hurry,” Ali pleads.

  I grope around in the dark. “Come on … please,” I whisper. As soon as my fingertips brush the cold metal, I let out a huge gust of pent-up air. “Got ’em,” I call out.

  Gripping the keys in my hand, I climb into the combine.

  “You ready?” I ask.

  Ali’s still in a lot of pain, but she nods as she settles on my lap.

  I turn the key; the engine roars to life, the headlights illuminating hundreds of bodies crowded in all around us. Ali screams, nuzzling her face into my neck. They’re just standing there in the wheat, staring at us, with rictus grins and those black eyes.

  “Go … go!” Ali yells.

  I shake off the terror building inside me and grind the tractor into gear.

  Sheriff Ely staggers in front of the headlights.

  “Wait,” he yells, waving his hands around.

  His eyes are normal. He’s not one of them. I try to slam on the brake, put it in reverse, turn the wheel, but nothing’s working. I even pull the key out of the ignition, but it still won’t stop.

  “Get out … get out of the way … move!” I yell, but Ely just looks up at me in shock as the combine lurches forward. There’s a horrific scream, followed by a huge bump as fresh blood splatters the windshield.

  “Oh my God … my God … I killed him!”

  I think about opening the door and jumping out, but Ali’s doubled over in pain. We’ll never be able to make it on foot in her condition.

  The people are barely moving out of the way as the combine moves forward, like they don’t care if we run them over or not. Not that I could stop it, even if I wanted to. The combine has taken on a life of its own.

  Through the blood-smeared windshield, I keep my eyes trained on the breeding barn. It’s lit up from within, like a beacon in the dark.

  Just when I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to get Ali out of the moving combine, it stalls out about twenty feet from the barn. I jump out and help Ali down. Miss Granger’s standing outside, waiting, as if she’s been expecting us.

  “I knew you could do it,” she says with a pleasant smile.

  “No … you don’t understand … I hit Sheriff with the combine … he’s dead.” Ali groans in pain. “She needs help … there’s something wrong.”

  “In here,” Miss Granger replies, as she motions inside to a bed of fresh-cut wheat covering the breeding platform.

  I set Ali down. “There’s people coming,” I say as I hunch over, struggling to catch my breath. “Hundreds of them … they’ve come for us … just like my vision at the game. I thought this was over.”

  “Don’t worry, they’ll be here in time.”

  “In time?” I ask as I check on Ali. “In time for what?”

  A drop of blood lands next to Ali in the wheat. I’m looking at her body trying to figure out where it came from when Ali clamps her hand over her mouth and points toward the ceiling. I look up to see Tyler rigged into the breeding apparatus—the artificial insemination gun shoved down his throat. The priests are suspended from hooks on either side of him, their black robes swaying gently.

  “Oh Jesus!” I shield Ali’s eyes. “You didn’t tell me about the priests. Why didn’t you tell me they died, too?”

  “Would it have made a difference?” Miss Granger says nonchalantly.

  I try to pick Ali up, get her away from the stench of death, but she screams out in agony. “Stop. I can’t move.”

  I set her back down again. “Help her! Can’t you see she’s in pain?” I turn to see Miss Granger opening the barn doors to the hordes of people.

  “Don’t!” I stand in front of Ali as if I can protect her from the mob gathering around the breeding platform. They’re smiling at us, like we’re some kind of entertainment.

  “You still don’t understand, do you?” Miss Granger says. “Jimmy, Ben, Tammy, Jess, Tyler, Sheriff Ely, the priests … that was all for this to come to pass. It was right in front of you all along.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I was with Reverend Devers and Jimmy that night at the church. I thought you almost caught me when you got close to the garage. Ben was in my bed the night you woke from a nightmare and came over to my house. You ran your hand right over his jean jacket hanging on the back of my chair. It’s a shame, really, because I’m certain I could’ve had you that night. Lee was supposed to be one of the sacrifices, but you weren’t man enough to finish the job. That’s okay. I’m devout. I can still be of service, for goodness sake.”

  “Why are you saying this? It can’t be—”

  “I was beginning to wonder if you could even pull this off, the dirty deed.” Her gaze shifts to Ali. “You were stubborn with your virgin whore complex. But when she offered herself to you and you refused, I knew what I had to do. I had to make you believe I took the Devil from her, made her pure again, so you could pour your demon seed into her. The priests had to pay the price, but it was well worth it. Was it worth the wait, Clay? Everything you hoped it would be?”

  I feel a blistering heat take over my face. “How long have you been one of them?” I ask as I scan the barn, trying to come up with an escape plan.

  “I should’ve died that day in Mexico. But I offered my parents instead.”

  “You killed your parents?”

  “I set them free.” She smiles up at me and I feel sick to my stomach. “You were so easy to manipulate, Clay. Drinking my tea. Telling me your deepest darkest secrets.”

  “The salvia. That was you?” I look around for anything I might be able to use as a weapon.

  “I needed you off balance. Especially when you saw what happened at the rebirth ceremony, Ali emerging from the cow. I needed you to believe it was all a bad dream. I think deep down you knew, didn�
��t you? You kept seeing it over and over again. Did you see it when you were bedding Ali? I bet you did.” She smiles coyly.

  “What do you want from me? What do you want from Ali?” I yell as I stand guard.

  “We’re here for the birth of our lord,” she says, her gaze shifting to Ali’s stomach.

  “That’s impossible … we just … I mean … Ali was a virgin before tonight.”

  “Is that your highest concern? That she was a virgin for you?” Miss Granger rolls her eyes. “So provincial, Clay. But yes, Ali saved herself for you, poor wretched cow. Our lord works in mysterious ways.” Her smile deepens. “Blessed be the seed,” she exclaims. “Satan chose you to deliver his seed. And you chose Ali. It’s the highest honor.”

  I don’t want to believe it, any of it, but when I look at Ali writhing on the breeding platform, the witnesses gathered around, I know it’s true. I have to get Ali out of here, to the hospital, so they can abort this monstrosity growing inside of her. I look back at her and my heart is breaking. How could I have been so blind … so stupid? The seed … I was the seed all along. That’s why my dad tried to kill me that night. He knew. He saw something in me … something evil. I remember the bull kneeling before me. All this time, I thought someone else killed the golden calf, but it must’ve been me. I started it all. I brought him here.

  Ali holds out her hand to me, beckoning me closer.

  I sink next to her on the breeding platform. “I’m so sorry … I didn’t know … I didn’t und—”

  “The prophecy,” she grunts through the pain. “Only the chosen one will be able to care for the lord. As the chosen one, you’re the only one who can touch him … maybe the only one who can hurt him, too.” She looks up at the ceiling pointedly.

  I follow her gaze to the flash of silver glinting in the candlelight—an upside-down crucifix hanging from the neck of one of the priests.

  “I can’t.” I shake my head rapidly, thinking about what she’s asking me to do.

  She grips my arm. “If you don’t stop this … we’re all going to die. Think of Noodle.”

  I push her damp hair back from her face. Acid floods my throat, my shoulders start to convulse, but I choke it back. I choke back everything. Grabbing a bail of hay, I climb up and jump, snatching the crucifix from the priest’s neck.