The Harvest

by Sara Clancy

  “Now, that’s a bit personal. We haven’t even braided each other’s hair and talked about boys yet.”

  “If it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me.”

  “Yeah. That’s kind of what I was getting at. But nice try making me feel guilty about not opening up. Smooth attempt at manipulation.”

  “I wasn’t trying to do that. I’m just trying to have an actual conversation with you. Maybe even understand you a little. Are you always this paranoid?”

  Basheba smiled again, small and tight and with a bitter amusement in her eyes. “I’m not paranoid. I just don’t like people. Everyone who’s worth anything is dead, anyway.”

  “You like Cadwyn,” Mina pointed out.

  “He follows me on Instagram.” Basheba turned to her, one delicate hand placed over her heart. “That’s a sacred bond.”

  Frustration piled up inside her until she was teetering on the edge of screaming again.

  “What happened to you to make you like this?”

  All traces of humor were swept from Basheba like a flash of wildfire, leaving only smoldering embers burning in her pale blue eyes.

  “It must have been nice to be so utterly protected from reality,” she said slowly. “You must have known your family members were dying. What did your daddy tell you? Did he say they were in car crashes? Maybe freak accidents? You’d think that eventually, you’d get a little suspicious you weren’t getting the whole story.”

  She didn’t get louder or throw her arms about, but it was clear Basheba was fueling her anger. It was growing and bubbling inside her. Mina was suddenly very aware that she was alone in a dark forest with a volatile, unpredictable, and possibly sadistic girl.

  “My earliest childhood memory is of this place,” Basheba continued, abruptly taking on an almost dreamy tone. “My older sister had been selected. None of them returned. When that happens, we form search parties to find the remains. I volunteered.”

  “The police let you? How old were you?”

  Basheba flopped back onto the earth. Apparently, rolling her eyes wasn’t dramatic enough. Bathed in the dancing light of the nearby fire, she stared up at the canopy, letting the tiny flakes of snow drift onto her face.

  “You’re so dumb it’s physically painful.” Basheba chuckled. “About a century in, the Black River police admitted to themselves there wasn’t much they could do. Admitting there was a killer in the woods only put pressure on them to catch said killer. So, instead of being forced to hang innocent people to prevent riots, they decided to take a step back. Sure, they’ll come and take statements and photos and tick all the boxes necessary to make sure the paperwork’s in order. But anything more just leads to the deaths being exploited. We become entertainment. Promote Katrina’s legend. Draw more people into the woods. Not exactly what they’re going for. So, we take care of our own. We send them in and we go and find them after.”

  “But why your parents would let you do that? If they truly believed in all of this, why expose you to it?”

  “Because I’m a Bell. It’s my responsibility to look. To know. And to fight on anyway.”

  Mina had a suspicion she was quoting someone but didn’t dare to ask who.

  “We found her,” Basheba continued. “Not too far from here, actually. Just a couple of miles. Katrina had used their bodies like art supplies. She cut them up, nailed them into trees. Let their organs drape down like Spanish moss.” She suddenly bolted upright. “A totem pole! That’s what she was going for. How did it take me so long to get it? Well, now I just feel dense.”

  Mina kept her silence, twisting her numb fingers together until they hurt. The laughter that slipped past Basheba’s lips made her cringe. It didn’t last long, though.

  “That was the first time I saw my dad break. He couldn’t handle seeing his little girl like that. Mom was waiting for us at home. I didn’t want her to go through that, too. So, I volunteered to climb up and pull out the nails. I never knew how many organs were in a human body. It took forever.”

  Mina watched the emotionless girl for a long moment. “How old were you?”

  “Are you actively trying to miss the point?”

  Before Mina could reply, the smaller girl continued.

  “Let me spell it out for you. No matter how bad you think me, your family is worse. Your daddy chose to keep you ignorant. He did that. And then he had the balls to get enraged when I reminded him I’m not just cannon fodder for his crotch goblin’s survival.”

  Mina bristled but picked her words carefully. “You don’t seem to have this opinion of Ozzie.”

  “You and Ozzie are in completely different situations. It was his mother’s intervention, not Percival’s choice, that kept him ignorant. Also, he just saved my life. That kind of endears me to him a little bit.”

  Suddenly, Basheba turned to her. Being the sole focus of the smaller girl’s attention made Mina’s insides twist sharply.

  “You know what you’re like? You’re like that jerk who has never been assaulted, but thinks he has the knowledge to educate rape survivors on how they should handle their trauma. The kind who refuse to admit they’re wrong no matter how much evidence is piled up before them.”

  Basheba lifted her hand to keep Mina silent. “We’ve barely known each other for forty-eight hours, and you don’t hesitate to ask me incredibly personal questions. What? Like it’s my job to educate you? To convince you? God, you are like your father. But what really gets me? Is the fact that it doesn’t matter what I say. You’re never going to believe me. Even now, after everything you’ve seen, after everything I’ve told you, you’ve still got your cute little nose up in the air. Just biting at the bit to explain to me that I’m just too stupid to understand what’s really going on.”

  Chest heaving and color filling her cheeks, Basheba blinked thoughtfully. “Huh. That makes you more repulsive than me, doesn’t it? I mean, I set a high bar, but you might have just climbed over it.”

  Mina hadn’t realized she was hugging herself, twisting her arms around her torso until they crushed the air from her lungs. She could feel her brain melting into slush under the weight of Basheba’s accusation. The horrors she had seen. The sound of bees still lingering in her memory. Under the blonde’s watchful gaze, Mina felt everything she knew about herself dissolve into a putrid ooze, dripping away to better mirror Basheba’s opinion of her. She didn’t know if she’d ever see herself the same way again.

  ***

  Why won’t they stop shaking?

  Ozzie’s gloves had been too wet to wear. But, without them, his fingertips had long since gone numb, leaving nothing behind but a deep, throbbing ache. He stared at his hands, ordered them to stay still. It didn’t do any good.

  Just stop shaking!

  Stumbling over the stones and through the underbrush must have disturbed Cadwyn because the older man inched closer to his side, approaching him like he was a startled animal. After a moment of hesitation, he placed a hand between Ozzie’s shoulder blades. He knew the contact was coming but still couldn’t stop himself from flinching. Ozzie shoved his trembling hands deep into his jacket pockets, not wanting the older man to see his weakness, but knowing it was too late.

  “I’m not afraid,” Ozzie blurted out.

  “I am,” Cadwyn replied. “The last thing I want to do is go back to that tree. I’m glad you’re keeping me company.”

  Ozzie tried to narrow his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, I bet you’re glad it’s me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He shrugged. “No offense, but I’d feel safer with Basheba. She’s might actually be crazier than this place.”

  Cadwyn chuckled, “Yeah, she might be.”

  “Think we’re all going to be like her after this?”

  “I don’t think anyone is like Basheba,” he replied. Cadwyn left his hand on Ozzie’s back as he stooped over slightly, trying to catch his gaze.

  “You handled yourself really well today, Ozzie.�
��

  Balling his fists didn’t stop his hands from shaking. He just wanted them to be still, even if only for a second, but his body was determined to out him as the coward he was. Cadwyn’s eyes were as kind as his smile. He gestured loosely to Ozzie’s pockets.

  “It’s the adrenaline. Though, that swim probably didn’t help.”

  Having his joke fall flat didn’t diminish his smile. He patted Ozzie’s shoulder.

  “You’ll feel better when you’re warm and dry with a good meal in your stomach.”

  I don’t think I’m ever going to feel better. Ozzie kept the thought to himself as they continued to trudge over the slush of decaying leaves and gathering snow. All the while, his trembling grew steadily worse. Memories taunted him, playing like twisted home movies in his mind’s eye, never dwelling on any single horror but shifting between all they had witnessed. Each flash broke his resolve a little more.

  Keep it together Ozzie. Breathe. Don’t let them know they’re stuck in the woods with a completely useless child.

  It was all for nothing. Tears gathered behind his eyes. His throat swelled shut, forcing each breath to break into a snot clogged sob. Holding his breath, he tried to smother the sound. It only made it all the more noticeable when he finally gasped for air.

  The first sob hurt the most. Those that followed toppled out of him as an unrelenting force, shaking his shoulders and making his chest ache. Cadwyn quickly pulled him into a hug as tight as their injured, aching bodies would allow. The wall of body heat left Ozzie painfully aware of how cold he was. There was something about that silent, warm comfort that made the tears come faster. Cadwyn didn’t comment. Just rested his head on top of Ozzie’s and rubbed his back in soothing circles.

  “I’m sorry,” Ozzie mumbled between his broken wails, shoving his face hard into Cadwyn’s chest to try and smother the sound. As if there was still a chance Cadwyn hadn’t seen what a complete mess he was. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey, none of that. You did great.”

  Great? The word rattled around Ozzie’s skull, laughing at him as it clashed against the truth of what he must really look like. A blubbering child clinging to the closest thing that would pass as a father figure. Stripped bare of what he thought he was, Ozzie could only confront what lay at his core. He wasn’t strong. Wasn’t brave. Wasn’t invincible and ready to take on the world. He was useless. Pathetic.

  I’m going to die here. I’m going to take them all with me.

  Cadwyn tightened his arms around Ozzie’s shoulders and brought one hand up to cup the back of his head. “I know seeing a demon can be overwhelming the first time. I can’t say it gets easier, but it won’t be so bad. The shock wears off after a while.”

  He went through all of this when he was just a kid.

  The knowledge mocked him. To know a child confronted the same thing with more bravery than he could now summon. Percival’s voice replayed in the back of his head. He played chicken with a demon, and the demon blinked first.

  “I’m sorry,” Ozzie stammered. “I’ll get better. I promise. I’ll get better, somehow.”

  “You saved Basheba’s life. Your quick thinking and quicker hands made sure we could keep fighting. How much better do you want to get?”

  “You don’t have to humor me.” Ozzie pulled back, roughly wiped the tears from his eyes, and snorted down a few breaths. “I know how stupid I am.”

  “You’re not.”

  “It was the first challenge and look at me! She broke me, Cadwyn!”

  His voice remained calm and serene. “So what?”

  Ozzie used the back of his hands to rub at his eyes again. No matter how many times he wiped the tears away, there was always more to take their place.

  “What do you mean? Isn’t that bad?”

  “Ozzie, Katrina and her demons, this is all they think about. They spend every day thinking about ways to hurt people. Of course, she broke you. We’re all going to break. Probably more than once. That part doesn’t matter.”

  “What part does?” Ozzie asked meekly.

  He hadn’t realized he had lowered his gaze to the ground until Cadwyn cupped his shoulder and gave him a small shake. Just enough to make him look up and resume eye contact again.

  “What matters is what you do with the rubble. She has no say in that.”

  He sniffed, “Huh?”

  “The Witch can break you, but she can’t take anything from you. My brother taught me that.” He waited until he knew he had Ozzie’s full attention before continuing. “If you don’t think you can make it as you are, take the rubble she reduced you to and rebuild yourself into someone who can.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Let’s start by taking a second and getting those tears out, all right? It’ll do you a world of good.”

  At Ozzie’s hesitation, Cadwyn nudged his shoulder. “Hey, crying doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you gave a damn.”

  “Your brother tell you that, too?”

  “Nah. Basheba’s sister.” A small, sad smile flicked across his face, but he quickly hid it behind unrelenting kindness.

  There was no mockery in it. He wasn’t looking down on him or trying to prop him up for his own gain.

  “You’re just a nice guy.”

  Cadwyn’s eyebrows jumped, and Ozzie realized he had said that last part out loud.

  “Sorry, it was passing through. I didn’t mean to sound weird or creepy.”

  “Ozzie,” Cadwyn chuckled. “Do you remember where I work? That’s the least creepy compliment I’ve had in a while.”

  “What’s the creepiest?”

  “They mostly revolve around my teeth.”

  Ozzie sniffed. “They are nice teeth.”

  “Thanks. They’re fake.”

  The short burst of laughter reopened the dam of tears waiting to be released. He crumbled, both mentally and physically, trusting Cadwyn to catch him. Without a word, the taller man held onto Ozzie and let him cry.

  Chapter 16

  The sudden thrashing of a nearby bush shattered the silence that had fallen over the girls. A startled scream escaped Mina as she scrambled toward the teepee fire. An instant later, Basheba was crouched by her side, a hunting knife clutched in her delicate hand. They shared a quick glance before refocusing on the shaking plant life. Mina’s heart hammered against her rib cage as she tried to steel herself for what was coming for them next.

  The bush ripped in two as Buck leaped through it, a bloody mass clutched in his jaws and tail wagging with victory.

  Basheba was grinning before Buck’s paws hit the ground. She reached out for him, drawing him closer with a rush of praise and excited baby talk. The studded armor was still strapped to his muscular body, but he didn’t seem to feel the weight. Bouncing around like a boastful puppy, he rushed over and dumped his prize at Basheba’s feet. Blood instantly began to trickle from the broken mass and pool around the mangled corpse, catching the snowflakes as they drifted down. Basheba reached past Mina to stab the lump.

  “What did you bring me, baby boy? Huh?”

  It hung limply from the long blade, twisting slightly as she lifted it up to the firelight for closer examination.

  “Is that a rabbit?” Mina asked.

  “New England Cottontail. We’re going to eat well tonight.” Her voice took on an almost giddy tone as she pulled Buck into a one-armed hug, either expertly avoiding the spikes or ignoring their sharp bite. “Who’s the cutest, smartest, best boy in the whole wide world?”

  “Okay, now I know that’s got to be me,” Cadwyn said as he stalked out from the gathering darkness.

  “Nope,” Basheba dismissed.

  He jabbed a thumb to the shorter boy trailing a step behind him. “Ozzie?”

  “No. But I do like him more than you at the moment.”

  Ozzie’s chest puffed up a little. Or perhaps it was just that he straightened out of his miserable, defeated slump.

  “You do?” he asked.

  �
��You saved me. And you got the bag.”

  “Hey.” Cadwyn tossed the pack to Mina. “I helped.”

  Basheba slipped past the tall man to her carefully organized cooking utensils.

  The boy noticed the clothes warming on the makeshift rack and gratefully changed. It wasn’t easy changing under the sleek thermal sheet without losing it, but Mina was determined to make it work. While the rest of the group shuffled and hopped awkwardly about, Basheba busied herself retrieving a pair of latex gloves from Buck’s saddlebag, yanking them on, and examining the rabbit.

  Mina paused.

  Is it okay to eat a rabbit from the Witch’s Woods?

  “You guys even warmed our socks?” Cadwyn said happily.

  “You are awesome,” Ozzie said, sighing with contentment as he pulled on the thick wool.

  The leather of the collar and cuffs had worked with the river water to rub Mina’s skin raw. Still, she didn’t dare to take them off as she struggled to pull her sweater on. Somewhat sheepishly, she mumbled.

  “That was Basheba. She set up everything.”

  By the time they had all gathered around the flames, Basheba was ready to reduce the once living creature into a meal. Mina wasn’t a squeamish person. She had proven that to herself on the hillside with Cadwyn. But, for some reason, seeing Basheba cut into the little bunny churned her stomach.

  The older girl had cleared a stone and stretched the rabbit out on its back with its ears pointed toward her lap. The ever-present mist was somewhat held back by the fire and, as the others crowded around for warmth, she went about her work with clean, efficient, confident motions. The first small cut into its stomach brought a weak beading of blood and a puff of steam. Mina couldn’t look away as Basheba worked her fingers in to pry the wound wider. It wasn’t because the scene horrified her, but because the fresh kill must still have had some warmth to it. Her frozen fingers ached with jealousy.