The Harvest

by Sara Clancy

  A fair distance still separated him from the beast, allowing him to see the colossal creature in its entirety. It had the body of a man, if the man was a gigantic bodybuilder. Swollen muscles twitched beneath skin stained with blood, mud, and sweat. Its shoulders were broad enough that its bull head wasn’t out of proportion. Unknown muck matted the short fur that covered the minotaur’s head and neck. Black eyes bulged from the brown fur, undeniably bovine, but still somehow conveying dark malice. Trails of steam worked its way from flaring nostrils, coiling in the chilled air before dissipating around its curved horns.

  The minotaur hunched forward, dislodging the clumps of flesh previous kills had left clinging to the deadly peaks, allowing the putrid chunks to fall onto the earth between its feet. Cadwyn’s heart hammered painfully against his ribs as the minotaur carefully lined its horns up for attack. Its bare, mud-encrusted feet scraped over the ground.

  Cadwyn jerked hard on his heavy bike, balanced himself on the foot bars, and forced the acceleration to its breaking point. The back tire spun wild, forcing the whole bike to fishtail before it found traction and suddenly shot forward. He desperately searched for a way around the minotaur but found nothing. A part of him wanted to turn back, to take one of the other roads into town. But there was something heavy in the back of his mind that whispered he wouldn’t make it across the stream again. Katrina wouldn’t let him slip her trap so easily.

  Demons can’t touch you. His own thoughts sounded like they came from the far end of a tunnel. Not until the box is open. The Witch is just trying to waste my time. Get to town.

  Heat pulsated from the motor as the bike snarled. The minotaur snorted, gushing clouds of steam into the air.

  It can’t touch you.

  The bull charged forward to meet him. Its wild baying cut over the sound of the machinery. Impossibly large muscles bulged as it braced for impact. At the last moment, the minotaur swept its head out, ducked lower, and drove one huge horn into the Thruxton’s front wheel. There wasn’t time to feel the sudden jolt before he was airborne.

  Crushing steel and the dying gasps of the bike clashed somewhere in the back of his awareness before he hit the ground. His helmet absorbed the worst of it and allowed his muscle memory to take over. Tucking in his limbs, he allowed himself to roll.

  Leather ripped. His helmet snapped against the road until his visor was little more than a few shards of Perspex plastic left scattered along the path he had taken. At least, the momentum had drained away. Cadwyn rocked onto his shoulder but there wasn’t enough energy behind him to complete the rotation. He flopped onto his back. A solid thud that pushed the last of the air from his lungs. It was a small relief to let his arms drop from his chest.

  Nothing’s broken.

  He would have laughed if he had had breath to do so.

  Writhing in pain, he felt his brain slosh around the inside of his skull. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, sucking in a deep breath, he glanced back down the road.

  The minotaur thrashed wildly, working the remains of the bike off its horns. Frozen in horror, Cadwyn watched, witnessing the creature’s strength as it hurled the mangled bike into the woods without ever placing a hand upon it.

  With a thunderous bellow, it turned back to Cadwyn and charged. Cadwyn forced himself up. Every joint in his body screamed in pain. Blood oozed through the places the leathers hadn’t been able to properly protect. Cadwyn ripped off his helmet, keeping it gripped tightly in his arms as he sprinted to meet the creature.

  At the last moment, the bull once again lowered its head. Cadwyn dropped lower. Due to the beast’s colossal size, he was able to pass between its legs. With every ounce of force he had within his power, Cadwyn drove his helmet into the minotaur’s crotch.

  A pained sound cracked through the silence. Its legs wobbled, its balance thrown off by the abrupt strike and resounding pain. While it toppled forward, Cadwyn got back up onto his feet and spun. The beast was already reaching for him, forcing him to retreat instead of striking its throat as he had intended.

  Avoiding one arm brought him into contact with a horn. The razor-sharp tip easily severed his protective leathers and slashed across his chest. Cadwyn ignored the pain and latched onto the horn, forcing the entire weight of his body against it, trying to push the bull’s head down. The minotaur merely stretched its neck. But he had his opportunity again.

  Grasping the horn with both hands, he drove his knee up. What remained of the protective padding added to the blow and muffled the feel of the beast’s crunching larynx. Steam spilled from its mouth to fill the air. It thrashed wildly, easily tossing Cadwyn aside as it choked.

  Get up. Get up.

  Cadwyn took the blow and scrambled to his feet, desperate not to miss the opening, knowing he might not get another chance. He swung the helmet with both hands. This time, it cracked against the minotaur’s eye. The resulting spike of pain and disorientation bought him another few seconds.

  Don’t let him get off his knees.

  Cadwyn shrank back to avoid the wild limbs before surging forward. The combination of his body weight and the creature’s confusion helped him bring it down. It took every muscle Cadwyn had, straining to the point of breaking, to crack the minotaur’s skull against the road. But the first victory gave him an opening for the next.

  Fall back. Strike again.

  It was a method that had been trained into him to bring down the people he worked with, but never with this violence. The first streams of blood made Cadwyn gag. His natural instincts told him to stop each time the wounded beast released an animalistic cry.

  Fall back. Strike again!

  The solid crack of bone became a wet crunch. Blood, brains, and hunks of furry flesh clung to his skin. Pain and fatigue made his arms wobble, forcing him to release the horns in favor of the helmet. Cadwyn hit the beast’s skull until it lost all shape, and then continued until his helmet cracked and splintered into useless shards. He hit until he was physically incapable of lifting his arms again.

  The minotaur had long since stopped moving by the time Cadwyn flopped back. Thin wisps of steam snaked up from the fresh blood that pooled around him. It was impossible to tell which one of them it belonged to. Adrenaline faded, pain returned, and he found himself barely able to link together a single thought. All he could do was breathe.

  His unfocused gaze stared at the canopy above them; blood red leaves shivering against a covering of dense grey clouds. At first, he didn’t notice it. Then he absently assumed it was a misfiring of his obviously bruised brain. Red and blue light danced around him, flashed across the trees, and tainted his view.

  It wasn’t until he heard the crunch of footsteps that it occurred to him it could be on the outside of his malfunctioning brain. He blinked and the feet came to a stop by his skull. He had to squint in order to bring the police officer into view.

  “What the hell happened here?” The officer asked.

  Cadwyn’s mouth jerked into a half smile. “Hi, Trevor. How’re the kids?”

  Chapter 10

  Mina sat at the small table by the window. Sunlight streamed through the polished glass, giving her all she needed to study the box in detail. It was the first time she had been able to get a good look at it. Tradition dictated the cube was to be instantly sealed within a thick iron box, the kind used for radioactive material. She had always been told the Selected was allowed to take it back out once they were far enough away from the children. However, that didn’t seem to be the case. Her father had refused to even let her near it until they were within the town’s café, curiously named Witch’s Brew. He had disappeared out the back with her other relatives shortly after they had arrived, leaving Jeremiah with strict instructions to keep her from opening the container. That had lasted only as long as it took for her to reach across the booth.

  After studying each side in turn, she had come to one conclusion; she should have bought that magnifying glass keychain she had seen in the store before. Suddenly, it
seemed completely practical, and not dorky at all. Growling in frustration, Mina sat back and thought, then shot a question at her brother.

  “Do you have your phone on you?”

  Jeremiah jolted at the sudden address. “Don’t you?”

  “It’s charging in my bedroom.”

  Cautiously, her big brother slipped off the distant table and inched his way across the room.

  “Don’t you dare take the box,” she warned him.

  “I don’t want to touch that thing.”

  He fished his phone from his back pocket and held it out with the tips of his fingers, keeping himself as far away from the table as he could without throwing his birthday present. Mina struggled to keep from rolling her eyes.

  “Can you open it for me, please?”

  After unlocking it, he presented it in exactly the same way as before.

  “Thanks.” She pulled the phone away and quickly clicked off a few photographs.

  “What are you doing?” Jeremiah asked.

  “I need a magnifying glass.”

  “You’re taking photos,” he said.

  The stress must be getting to him.

  “So I can magnify them,” she replied.

  He still wasn’t getting it. The box held the full focus of his attention, his eyes wide and his breathing shallow.

  “You know, zoom in.”

  “Oh, right,” he mumbled absently.

  Mina picked up the box to shift the angle of her photographs.

  “Do you have to keep touching that thing?” He still had enough sense to keep his voice down.

  Neither of them wanted to know just how mad their dad would be to learn that the box was outside the container.

  “I want to get a better look at this pattern. It keeps moving.”

  “What pattern?”

  “These squiggles.” She zoomed in on one of her photographs to show him what she meant. “See, here? Under the shifting metal bars.”

  Jeremiah craned his neck to see the screen but didn’t dare come any closer to the box.

  “Oh, yeah,” he murmured.

  “At first, I thought they were just decoration. But there’s no repetition. The same symbols, odd spacing, not repeating,” she thought aloud.

  “What are you babbling about?”

  She finally looked up. “I think it’s a language.”

  “A language?”

  “A language hidden under moving elements on a box with no seams.” She couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed. “Who would go to this much effort for a prop?”

  Jeremiah glared at her. “Are you kidding me? You still think this is fake?”

  “Not fake exactly,” she admitted. “But exaggerated.”

  “You were locked in a closet with her.”

  Mina threw herself back in her seat, remembering just in time not to toss his phone across the room, even if it would have been dramatically fitting.

  “I have claustrophobia. You know that. Being in that closet…” She shuddered under the memories that began to prick at the corners of her mind but forced herself to continue. You need to appear strong if he’s going to take you seriously. “In those circumstances, it would be completely normal for someone with my condition to exaggerate certain things, or even outright hallucinate.”

  Jeremiah slumped down on a nearby chair. Then, deeming that wasn’t enough, smacked his head down against the matching tabletop.

  “Everything I experienced can be explained,” she insisted.

  “What about the box?!” he bellowed to the ceiling, raising his hands for good measure.

  She scoffed. “Obviously, it was in the closest before I got there.”

  Jeremiah released a sound akin to a dying animal as he began to smack his head upon the table repeatedly. Before he could gather himself enough to actually speak, the door to the kitchen swung open and a short girl rushed in.

  Mina eyed the Rottweiler that trotted at the girl’s side rather than the girl herself. There was something about the gigantic canine that put her on edge. The door smacked open again, letting a boy follow her.

  “Basheba! Hey, wait up,” the young Korean man called.

  The girl in question slowed her pace but didn’t stop. “Can you be quick? I’ve got to go run an errand.”

  “Well, can I come with you?” His initial nervousness evaporated behind a brilliant smile. “I just thought it would be cool if we could hang out for a bit. You know, get to know each other.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  The question left the boy stuck in a state of stunned sputtering. Basheba didn’t wait around for him to gather his senses. She was opening the door when she noticed Mina and Jeremiah on the far side of the room.

  “Oh, hey!” The boy beamed. “You’re Mina, right? I’m Ozzie. We’re going into the woods together. Part of the creepy box club. I can mention that in front of him, right?”

  “You really can’t handle awkward silences, can you?” Basheba asked, watching him from the corner of her eyes.

  Mina decided it was best to ignore the snide comment. “This is my brother, Jeremiah. And, yes, he knows all about it.”

  “What are you doing with your music box?” Ozzie asked, clearly desperate to keep the conversation going.

  “Examining it. Would you like to join us?”

  “Sure,” he said before casting a quick glance to Basheba, almost like asking permission.

  “You go right ahead,” she said, pulling the door open wider.

  “Who’s going with you?” Jeremiah asked quickly.

  She tilted her head to indicate the dog.

  Jeremiah looked to all of them in turn before stammering. “You’re one of the Selected. You can’t be alone.”

  “Buck’s way more loyal than anyone else around here,” she dismissed. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m on my way to pick up Cadwyn.”

  Ozzie perked up at the name. “Cad?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Picking him up from where?” Mina asked.

  “Local jail.” She wiggled her mobile phone in the air. “Apparently, they’re refusing to let him go without proper supervision.”

  “You count as proper supervision?” Ozzie asked while Mina inquired about the charges.

  Basheba rolled her eyes.

  “I’ll come with you,” Ozzie said.

  It took Mina a second to make a decision. Each one of them had a box, so she wouldn’t lose the opportunity to study it. On the other hand, being able to question the other Selected like this was likely to pass her by if she stayed. Soon enough, they’d be hiking through the backwoods. Not an ideal environment to get the truth from anyone, she determined. Additionally, her parents wouldn’t be around to interfere.

  “I’d like to stretch my legs.”

  “Mina,” Jeremiah whispered sharply.

  “Aren’t I supposed to work with them? Isn’t that an integral part of this?” she argued.

  “But−”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “You say that.”

  She held up one hand in the Scout’s honor salute. “I promise I’ll stay with the group at all times.”

  Jeremiah chewed on his inner cheeks. “Okay. There and back. Give me my phone and if anything happens, have Basheba call me. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Mina stood up and took a few steps toward the door, before it occurred to her. “Don’t tell dad.”

  “I might not be book smart like you, but I’m not a complete idiot.”

  To offer him a small measure of reassurance, she closed the radioactive metal box and took the music one with her. Absently rolling the phone over and over between his hands, he offered her a weak smile and watched her go. They had barely gotten a yard away from the café door before Jeremiah raced after them.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jeremiah drew her into a crushing hug, his arms shaking as badly as his stammered breaths.

  “Just come back, Mina. Okay? Come back.”
<
br />   “I will. I promise.” None of this is real, she told herself sharply. And she meant it. Every word. But that didn’t stop her from returning his hug with matching intensity. “Just keep dad out of my hair for a bit, okay?”

  “Yeah. And I’ll keep the tide from going out, too,” Jeremiah snorted.

  Finally, he let go and rushed back into the café. A cold chill swept down her spine when he was out of sight. It’s nothing. You’re just being paranoid. Righting her thoughts, she crammed the box into her jacket pocket, forcing the seams to their snapping point. Ozzie gave her a warm smile when she finally looked away from the Witch’s Brew.

  “So.” She tried to sound as casual as possible. “Where’s the police station?”

  Ozzie’s thick dark eyebrows knitted together.

  “I only found out this place existed yesterday,” he chuckled nervously. “I thought you’d know the way. I mean, I know you haven’t gone into the woods before, but you come here every year, don’t you?”

  “No. This is my first time in Black River.”

  “Oh.”

  For a split second, the warmth in Ozzie’s dark eyes flickered like a small flame in the wind. It allowed her to see the fear he had kept hidden beneath. A sharp breath and the warm was back.

  “Neither of us should be in charge of the map, huh?”

  Rattled by what she had seen, Mina struggled to return his smile. “I guess so.”

  “Hey, Basheba?”

  They both turned to discover the short girl was already halfway down Main Street. They had to run to catch up. Mina had to hand it to Basheba. It took a certain level of commitment to remain completely oblivious to two people standing only a few feet away. Ozzie’s first few attempts to draw her into conversation fell flat and he was soon grappling for topics.