The Harvest

by Sara Clancy

  “Basheba?”

  Again, her only response was a low shush. Drawing a deep breath through his nose, he forced himself to lay still, and locked his gaze onto the top of the tent. Beside him, Mina rolled closer to Ozzie who groaned at the disturbance but didn’t wake up. The air seemed to thicken as he breathed. Tightening his grip on Basheba’s fingers, he forced his eyes closed and tried to calm his mind. But the demon’s eyes were there, waiting for him in the darkness of his mind. Basheba squeezed back, and he was able to choke down a staggered breath.

  Leaves crunched. Tension turned his muscles to stone and his eyes snapped open. It’s just outside. Keeping his head locked into place, he lowered his gaze to the zipper. The tent walls seemed to pulsate in the firelight, shifting and moving with the collecting shadows. He tightened his grip on Basheba a bit more. Something shuffled outside, and he flicked his eyes to the side, wishing he could see the small woman. Another crunch of dead leaves and a shadow cut over the tent. A dark, dense, foreboding strip of ebony that severed the tent in two. Cadwyn went to lurch up but Basheba’s grip kept him down.

  “Shh,” she whispered on a breath.

  Has she been through this before? Did Katrina come do this to her? Does she know what’s out there?

  Questions sizzled through his panicked mind as the shadow washed over them.

  Growing larger or coming closer? He couldn’t tell.

  His core began to shake, the tremble working into his lungs, forcing him to hyperventilate. Basheba didn’t move. Her hand was solid as stone and cold as ice. The small bit of contact was the only thing keeping him from running, from waking up the others, and fleeing from whatever was slowly creeping toward the opening of the tent. It blotted out the firelight, shrouding their shelter in murky darkness as it crept ever closer, each step announced by the decaying plant life. Cadywn clenched his jaw, and held his breath. The silence accentuated every hint of sound. The footsteps stopped right outside. The fabric rustled. His heart slammed against his ribs until his whole body shook with the blows.

  Get the kids up! Get them out! Save them! The orders were a deafening scream within his skull, but Basheba’s hold on his hand kept him in place. Her stillness became his.

  Trust her plan, he told himself. Whatever it is.

  The zipper rasped as it slowly pulled open. Firelight showed through the opening, seeping around the suddenly diminished figure, washing over the two sleeping teenagers captured in the center of the tent. The shadowy figure loomed inside, and Cadwyn snapped. Slipping loose of Basheba’s grip, he jerked upright, a startled scream bursting from his lips.

  Ozzie and Mina jolted awake. Buck snapped and snarled. Basheba flung the tent flaps back to fill the space with light and drifting snow. Cadwyn blinked against the glare while his brain struggled to comprehend what was standing before him.

  Basheba stood in the entrance, her short stature barely filling the opening even while it cast a colossal shadow. Buck shoved his snout between her legs, still growling, clawing at the dirt as he looked for what had caused the startled cries. Cadwyn snapped around to look at the far side of the tent. Basheba’s sleeping bag was empty.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Mina stammered.

  In the same moment, Ozzie also asked what was wrong and Basheba snapped a few profanities.

  “What is it? Why are you yelling like that?”

  He could only look back and forth between where she stood and where she had been lying only a few seconds ago.

  “Cadwyn?” Basheba said sharply. “What’s wrong?”

  “You were outside?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Yeah. Nature called.” After a second, she sighed. “I took Buck with me and didn’t go far. Promise.”

  “You were outside,” Cadwyn said.

  “Yes,” she said somewhat sharply. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  Swallowing thickly, he looked down at his hand. He could still feel the chill from her touch. “Whose hand was I holding?”

  Chapter 17

  Basheba awoke with a jerk. The scent of winter hung heavy in the crisp air and the chill nipped at her nose. Buck’s cheeks wobbled as he grumbled in protest. Instead of getting up, he repositioned his head on top of hers and pretended to be asleep. It took a few moments before she could recall where she was. Blinking her eyes open, she found herself the focus of everyone in the tent. Mina and Ozzie looked miserable as they sat side by side to share the warmth of a single sleeping bag. Dark shadows lined Cadwyn’s eyes, highlighting the wrinkles that seemed to have deepened overnight. He clutched a mug of tea with both hands and stared at her over the rim.

  “Well, this is in no way unnerving,” Basheba said softly.

  “How were you able to sleep?” Mina countered.

  She shrugged, the small motion enough to have Buck protesting again. He looped one paw over her to keep her in place.

  “It’s a natural bodily process,” Basheba offered.

  “But, after everything? And then what happened with Cadwyn?” Mina shook her head rapidly like she could fight off the thoughts haunting her.

  Basheba gently shoved her pet off her and tried to sit up. Buck had other thoughts and, by the time they were done, he was lounging across her lap, effectively pinning her to the ground with his body weight. Shivering in the chill, she released a jaw-cracking yawn. In truth, it hadn’t been much of a conscious decision. She had more collapsed than settled in for a nap.

  No good could come from clarifying that now, she reasoned.

  Absently, she patted Buck along his snout and resolved not to threaten their fragile morale. Or her own. She looked so much braver when she saw herself through their eyes.

  “Katrina’s coming for us either way. Might as well nap while you can.” Basheba turned to Cadwyn with a smile. “Don’t suppose you have another cup of that tea?”

  “It’s just hot water,” he admitted with a small pout. “The teabags have gone moldy.”

  “There’s some spruce trees out there.”

  He blinked at her, and she explained during another yawn.

  “You bruise the needles and leave them to soak for ten minutes,” she smiled. “Rich in vitamin A and C.”

  “How do you know this stuff?” he asked.

  She scrunched up her face, “I read. Honestly, it’s not that hard.”

  Breakfast was tense and packing up the camp was not much better. The snow slowed things down considerably. The others tried to help but their lack of experience was almost as bad as the snow. She couldn’t believe she was the only one who had ever gone camping before. It seemed like they had missed out on a necessary part of childhood.

  Or maybe I was being trained.

  The thought bubbled up in the back of her head, bringing with it a thousand different memories.

  They had made sure I’d be comfortable in the woods, she realized. A mixture of gratitude and sorrow mixed up her insides until tears pricked at her eyes.

  “Basheba?” Cadwyn asked softly as he helped her stow away the tent. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  “It’ll all be okay.”

  “I was thinking about good things,” she assured him as she pulled Mina’s bag closer and started packing things away. “Some good things have happened to me, you know.”

  “Like what?”

  Pushing a sleeping bag down with determination, she lifted her chin. “I got a puppy.”

  “Okay, I have to give you that.”

  Basheba’s attention wavered when her fingertips brushed against some soft plastic. More food? Her stomach rolled at the thought of her sleeping bag getting drenched in the repulsive stench of decay. Yanking it out, she froze, her eyes locked on the little ziplock bag nestled against her palm. Belladonna. Katrina hadn’t touched the leaves, leaving them crisp and vibrant green. Anger bubbled in her stomach. Bloody Cranes.

  “Basheba?”

  Her head jerked up and her hand closed in a tight fist around the baggie. “Yeah?�
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  Concern danced in Cadwyn’s eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “Just missing my morning coffee,” Basheba forced a smile and shoved the bag of deadly foliage into the deep pockets of her waterproof hiking pants. “Were you saying anything important?”

  “I was just...” He trailed off, the smile on his lips as fake as her own. “Did I cross a line asking about your father?”

  Basheba couldn’t recall him mentioning any of her family. It didn’t matter, though. She wasn’t about to tell him anything about her family in detail. There wasn’t a lot she had left of them. Just some memories, and a half dozen photographs her uncle hadn’t been able to collect first. Logically, she knew sharing these things wouldn’t deplete what she had. But logic didn’t have much sway over grief. She wasn’t about to take the risk. Her memories were her own. Just as her body and her mind were. And if I can’t have them, no one will.

  “Basheba?” Cadwyn asked again, his voice softer than before. Kinder and with distinct hesitation.

  “We’re wasting daylight.”

  Brushing aside the gathering snow, she hurriedly zipped up Mina’s bag and called the girl over to collect it. Basheba made sure to have her own pack in place and was several feet away before the girl was near. A low whistle brought Buck to her side and she stalked into the woods, leaving the others to catch up if they were so inclined.

  The small cluster of leaves in her pocket felt as heavy as lead. It wasn’t that she was surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time the Crane family had come into the Harvest with this kind of game plan. What niggled at the corners of her mind was how easily she would have ingested the poison. Thinking back, she recalled several times she had accepted bottled water from the Crane girl during last night’s dinner alone.

  Just because they want to live doesn’t mean they care if you do.

  She stumbled as the past warning slipped to the forefront of her mind. It had been two years to the day since she had learned that lesson. Sweeping her eyes across the near identical rows of trees, she wondered how close she was to where it had all gone down. Long, silenced screams echoed around her. The coppery scent of blood pricked at her nose.

  If I move the leaves, would the blood still be there? There was so much of it. It must have stained the soil red.

  “Hey.” Ozzie’s voice shattered the memories that had shackled Basheba’s mind.

  She twisted around to watch the group coming closer, still repositioning their packs and organizing their winter gear. Each step came with the crunch of snow and the crackle of frost. Ozzie’s blisters had grown enough to give him a small but noticeable limp. He’d be in a lot of pain if it wasn’t for the numbing cold. A smile pulled at her lips. Thanks, Katrina.

  Mina eyed Basheba’s smile, suspicion plain on her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just need to check the compass,” Basheba replied smoothly. “Cadwyn?”

  The older man dug into his pocket as he approached and pulled out the small compass disk. It didn’t take more than a glance to notice the needle never set on a single spot but spun around at random. Ozzie sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Katrina?” Mina asked.

  “Magnetic field,” Basheba replied. “But I’m glad you’re getting into the swing of things.”

  Ozzie frowned. “What magnets?”

  She tried not to laugh at how adorably confused he looked. Like a little puppy.

  “The hills are filled with nickel,” Basheba explained. “Nickel messes with the magnetic fields compasses use to work.”

  Fear sparked in the depths of Ozzie’s dark eyes. “So, we’re lost?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t mean to argue.” Mina’s voice sounded a little tense as she spoke the blatant lie. “But we are now without a map or a working compass. How are we not lost?”

  “Well, for one thing, the giant mountain that’s messing with the compass can help with orientation,” Basheba dismissed.

  While Cadwyn smiled, he shook his head in a sign of annoyance. “Do you know which way we should go now?”

  Basheba pointed in two opposing directions.

  “Now you’re just trying to be irritating,” he said.

  “We all need hobbies,” Basheba dismissed. “There are two ways to get to the ranch house from where we are now. We go this way,” she said as she pointed up the gradually increasing incline, “we’ll have to climb up a cliff face that will put an extra day on our trip.”

  “Why would we take that path?” Ozzie asked.

  “It avoids the orchard,” Basheba said, stubbornly forcing down the memories that tried to bubble to the surface.

  The three people looked at each other and Mina asked, “What’s wrong with the orchard?”

  Memories pushed hard against her mind’s eye. She clenched her jaw and balled her hands in a desperate attempt to keep them out.

  “The fruit,” she whispered. Swallowing thickly, she carefully bottled the wildfire burning within her soul and searing her mind. Calmer now, she tilted her head to the side, allowing her matted blonde hair to sweep over her shoulder. “No offense, but I don’t think you two will do well going that way. Better to fall to your death. Quick and simple.”

  “That’s the way you went before?” Mina asked.

  Basheba nodded.

  “You survived.”

  “I was prepared.”

  Mina smiled. “But we have you and Cadwyn.”

  “And there’s nothing we’d rather do than deal with two teenagers having mental breakdowns in the middle of haunted woods.” Basheba watched the girl’s polite smile slip. “Sounds like fun.”

  “How many days do we have left?” Mina asked. “If the detour is going to put at least an extra day onto our trip, how long will we have left?”

  Basheba shrugged. “Two. Maybe one, depending on Katrina. The closer we get to the house, the more she can mess with the daylight hours. It makes it harder to keep track of time.”

  “That’s cutting it rather close, isn’t it?” Mina asked.

  Lifting her chin, she stared at the girl.

  “Again, I’m not trying to argue. I’m trying to understand,” Mina insisted. “I don’t know how long it generally takes to find these keys. Is a day enough?”

  She shifted her weight between her feet. “It depends on how well she hides them.”

  “I suck at hide and seek,” Ozzie blurted. “I’m not going to be good at this. I’ll need more time.”

  Cadwyn slipped closer to Basheba’s side, hunching over to whisper to the far shorter women. “I’m not so sure any of us can make it up a sheer cliff face.”

  Avoiding his gaze, she refrained from commenting.

  “I won’t get up it. Not with this cut on my chest,” he continued in a whisper. “And definitely not while carrying Buck’s weight, if that was your plan.”

  Her eyes instantly lowered to the loyal dog sitting patiently at her feet. Leaving him behind wasn’t an option.

  “I’ll take you to the orchard,” Basheba said. “But I take no responsibility for what happens there. You all get to carry that yourselves.”

  Chapter 18

  The sun couldn’t penetrate the thick blanket cloud cover, leaving the world in perpetual twilight, allowing shadows to shift amongst the trees. Time had turned the fog into a constantly churning mist. Weak enough to see through, cold enough to leave a thin layer of ice over everything it came into contact with. The snow never stopped. Random snaps rang throughout the woods as the overloaded branches cracked from the trunk and crashed down around them.

  Despite Basheba’s insistence that their ignorance would lead to their demise, she wasn’t in any rush to educate them. Mina had struggled to hold her tongue as she watched Cadwyn try and fail to draw the small girl into a conversation. The task was made all the harder since she couldn’t get a firm read on Basheba’s motives. At first, Mina had been confident Basheba harbored a real and honest fear of the place. But, as time passed, and she still ref
used to talk, Mina started to suspect it wasn’t the only reason. Nor was it just another example of her frigid nature. Something’s changed. Mina couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly. But her gut told her it was significant. And that worried her.

  Time passed slowly. The cold and her gathering hunger made the trip all the more uncomfortable and, by the time Basheba started to slow down, Mina was glad she wasn’t facing a climb at the end of the trudge. Just when she thought she couldn’t walk another step on the frozen stumps that were once her feet, Basheba let them take a break.

  Ozzie dropped into the mist, slumping onto his back like an upturned turtle. While his antics made both Mina and Cadwyn chuckle, neither decided to join him, and instead found a large stone that could keep them above the mist. Basheba gave her spot to Buck, using his elevation to more easily scrub at his neck in a playful way. The dog’s muzzle was white with frozen slobber.

  “How deep is the snow?” Basheba asked Ozzie without looking at him. “Just show me with the length of your finger.”

  Obediently, Ozzie shoved his hand down. “Goes up to the middle of my palm.” Repeating the motion a few times, he decided to stand beside his first declaration.

  “Good. Take off your bag.”

  Ozzie flicked his gaze to Cadwyn, waiting for the older man to give an approving nod before he started to struggle free of his pack.

  Does he feel the change, too?

  In a small act of mercy that she felt endlessly grateful for, Mina found her water bottle hadn’t frozen over. She took a few mouthfuls before offering it around. Basheba eyed the bottle for a second before meeting Mina’s gaze. Without a word, she turned back around and resumed working on Ozzie’s pack, sliding the tent’s collapsible metal poles free.

  Confused, Mina wondered what the woman’s problem was. Basheba’s expression had seemed to hold some kind of meaning, but she didn’t know how to interpret it. Then it dawned on her. She had been messing with Mina’s bag earlier, putting their supplies away. Was there really belladonna there? Had Basheba found it? It would certainly have explained the woman’s preoccupation.